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I wouldn't be surprised if someone turned in a sheet exactly like that.
If there's another person over six feet or can bench press over a hundred-seventy-five pounds, I will bust a nut. Suffer from erectile dysfunction. Spontaneous genitalia combustion. My ballsack will explode.
Peter's turned his head down from facing the ceiling and back to Deborah. Oddly enough, that girl was rather faithful in Peter's strategy. An odd amount of faith, given how it threw away her own entire plan. He suspected she knew a thing or two already - with a little observation, it became clear she knew a thing or two about a lot of things. She accurately picks out details and traits of people without much to go on. A kind of enhanced cognition. He felt a little leery of her, but remained inconspicuous with his suspicions. He let the team of students think more on about the newly developed strategy and let Deborah piece what she had to work with together. He figured she knew more about the capabilities of the students around her more than he did. There was one other girl that had approached him though. He was unable to make out some of the finer details of her, or possible skin flaws, but he did make out an eye-patches, and sensed faintly the wrinkles and creases of her skin, namely on her hands - she was too young to have received those naturally. Those were burn scars. She made mention of "lighting people up". If she was as flashy as she seemed to prescribe herself as, then she would make an excellent distraction. This girl wasn't the only one. There was another, with a creature on her back. She made mention of not being able to see in the dark, and walking into people. Those were valid concerns.
First, he looked to Gabriela. "If you can keep hostile eyes on you, then yes. As long as you do not illuminate the flanking units." Then he turned to face Codi. "The chargers will allow enough light in the center of the room for frame of reference, and should be dramatic enough to distract the opposing force and keep their eyes on them; but yes, the positioning is every--"
The abrupt alarm interrupted Peter's explanation. He had not quite payed attention to the background noise like he perhaps should have done, but it was just a minor nuisance. Shortly after, the girl he had met from before - Amanda Blackmore - went straight into action and developed a massive ball and chain. Made of metal. Which was honestly pretty disconcerting. And following shortly after, another one of theirs was playing music that extended beyond the normal limits of any MP3. Was their plan to intimidate them? Big displays? Surely, the team Peter was on wouldn't be fazed by such a display. They had a plan that should throw them way off. And such a straightforward plan wouldn't fly well anyways. He faced the rest of the group.
"Stand your ground for now, pretend to be on the defensive. I will cut the lights, but do not proceed until I say goo-ooe..."
That said, Peter went to action. He didn't necessarily care about the results, he just didn't want to leave these kids with the short end of the stick. His main concern? Getting to an electrical outlet and siphoning the power. That electrical arm. Ten minutes in most cases, if he just kept it like that. Whatever Peter planned on doing? It would probably leave him with five to seven minutes on his arm. He retreated into the bunk, subtle uses of electrical discharges being emitted from his feet each time he stepped to get fresh images around him. The layout of the bunker was visible to him, and some parts were brighter than others. That was a place where he could siphon the electricity. There were no lights or anything near the entrance - but further in and up the stairs there was a light from the ceiling. He charged up the stairs, his heavy footsteps perhaps being heard even from outside. Once there, he turned a corner by just enough so that he could push one foot against one wall and another on the other. With both feet on the walls to keep him suspended, he launched a metal punch at the lights, shattering it and the frame. Digging further in, he reached in and grasped and ripped away at the electrical chords that fueled the arena's power circuit.
It crackled and popped with electricity with Peter's arm elbow deep in the circuitry. His metal body absorbing and conducting all the power coursing through the walls and, in turn, the pit. The lights outside began to flicker. Peter's senses were alight with life, energy coursed through his body, that which tingled, as though his whole body were asleep. He felt static dance along his metal skin, which turned to arcs of electrical energy the longer Peter siphoned the power. Sparks were flying everywhere from the source as Peter let loose a warbled moan only the bending of metal could produce, loud, amplified by the energy coursing through him. It echoed through the bunker and escaped out to the open. Through this circuit, he got a sense of the arena's scale. It was huge. Separate from the rest of the academy, but it was massive. But all of that sense of scale was suddenly shut off from him in a final explosion of sparks. The surge had stopped. His body was no longer draining away at the system - not that it was an issue. His body was so charged with electricity it was almost overwhelming. The senses were so... sensitive. He heard a loud buzzing in the back of his head.
He idley touched his body, feeling the sensitive buzz. With the aid of his hand, he traced his body, from the legs, up the torso, to the head and back down to the sternum - before dragging a finger to his right shoulder. Arcs of electricity began to develop. He palmed his shoulder and he felt an extreme focus of static and electricity in his shoulder. It was... almost painful. Almost. More... euphoric. He felt something. His palm formed a claw shape, fingers dramatically outstretched as arcs of static connected his finger tips to his shoulder. As he eased his arm away, it was almost as if he was tugging the electricity out of his body. A long stretch of energy. It was condensed into a thick, steady bolt of electrical energy and as the last bits were eased away, they split off into five small branches. Fingers for an arm. He turned it around to view it from several different angles, as it wasn't bound by the joints people had. He rotated it all around and placed the hand in front of his face...
Just before the manic giggling and laughter of a warped and warbled metallic voice. Unaware of the pitch black darkness he had created outside the den.
First, he looked to Gabriela. "If you can keep hostile eyes on you, then yes. As long as you do not illuminate the flanking units." Then he turned to face Codi. "The chargers will allow enough light in the center of the room for frame of reference, and should be dramatic enough to distract the opposing force and keep their eyes on them; but yes, the positioning is every--"
The abrupt alarm interrupted Peter's explanation. He had not quite payed attention to the background noise like he perhaps should have done, but it was just a minor nuisance. Shortly after, the girl he had met from before - Amanda Blackmore - went straight into action and developed a massive ball and chain. Made of metal. Which was honestly pretty disconcerting. And following shortly after, another one of theirs was playing music that extended beyond the normal limits of any MP3. Was their plan to intimidate them? Big displays? Surely, the team Peter was on wouldn't be fazed by such a display. They had a plan that should throw them way off. And such a straightforward plan wouldn't fly well anyways. He faced the rest of the group.
"Stand your ground for now, pretend to be on the defensive. I will cut the lights, but do not proceed until I say goo-ooe..."
That said, Peter went to action. He didn't necessarily care about the results, he just didn't want to leave these kids with the short end of the stick. His main concern? Getting to an electrical outlet and siphoning the power. That electrical arm. Ten minutes in most cases, if he just kept it like that. Whatever Peter planned on doing? It would probably leave him with five to seven minutes on his arm. He retreated into the bunk, subtle uses of electrical discharges being emitted from his feet each time he stepped to get fresh images around him. The layout of the bunker was visible to him, and some parts were brighter than others. That was a place where he could siphon the electricity. There were no lights or anything near the entrance - but further in and up the stairs there was a light from the ceiling. He charged up the stairs, his heavy footsteps perhaps being heard even from outside. Once there, he turned a corner by just enough so that he could push one foot against one wall and another on the other. With both feet on the walls to keep him suspended, he launched a metal punch at the lights, shattering it and the frame. Digging further in, he reached in and grasped and ripped away at the electrical chords that fueled the arena's power circuit.
It crackled and popped with electricity with Peter's arm elbow deep in the circuitry. His metal body absorbing and conducting all the power coursing through the walls and, in turn, the pit. The lights outside began to flicker. Peter's senses were alight with life, energy coursed through his body, that which tingled, as though his whole body were asleep. He felt static dance along his metal skin, which turned to arcs of electrical energy the longer Peter siphoned the power. Sparks were flying everywhere from the source as Peter let loose a warbled moan only the bending of metal could produce, loud, amplified by the energy coursing through him. It echoed through the bunker and escaped out to the open. Through this circuit, he got a sense of the arena's scale. It was huge. Separate from the rest of the academy, but it was massive. But all of that sense of scale was suddenly shut off from him in a final explosion of sparks. The surge had stopped. His body was no longer draining away at the system - not that it was an issue. His body was so charged with electricity it was almost overwhelming. The senses were so... sensitive. He heard a loud buzzing in the back of his head.
He idley touched his body, feeling the sensitive buzz. With the aid of his hand, he traced his body, from the legs, up the torso, to the head and back down to the sternum - before dragging a finger to his right shoulder. Arcs of electricity began to develop. He palmed his shoulder and he felt an extreme focus of static and electricity in his shoulder. It was... almost painful. Almost. More... euphoric. He felt something. His palm formed a claw shape, fingers dramatically outstretched as arcs of static connected his finger tips to his shoulder. As he eased his arm away, it was almost as if he was tugging the electricity out of his body. A long stretch of energy. It was condensed into a thick, steady bolt of electrical energy and as the last bits were eased away, they split off into five small branches. Fingers for an arm. He turned it around to view it from several different angles, as it wasn't bound by the joints people had. He rotated it all around and placed the hand in front of his face...
Just before the manic giggling and laughter of a warped and warbled metallic voice. Unaware of the pitch black darkness he had created outside the den.
I've always been a fan of balancing the suspension of disbelief and a little bit of physics. The suspension applies to the existence of powers and the fact the people have them and can use them. Peter being made of metal and generating/controlling electricity is the suspension. The little bit of physics applies to how that power affects the environment and the natural events that would occur according to that power. I entirely intend on making the usage as realistic as I can, to have these bolts of lightning and electrical discharges work as electricity regularly would.
Binding photons to form solid matter or something resembling solid matter is confusing. Maybe if you're able to draw it in and condense it, it will make a beam. But since protons and energy in general is pretty free floating, it would lose its shape pretty quickly and thusly its power. But it is still condensed, so all that probably explains why you're feeling a punch and not being downright incinerated.
Well that was easier than Peter first anticipated. So he was right on his hunch, about supposing this girl having the skill-set he sought for, but something about the situation seemed too easy. She was too agreeable. He couldn't help but wonder if this girl had her own motives, and maybe she was too interested in his work. What if she wanted it for herself? Or to sell it? God hath no fury like a man whose lost everything he ever put his life into. It would be a sick joke. Months of boot camp? Wasted on his first mission. Years of seeking an answer to his arm? A sudden development of a superpower that made it impossible to recover his missing limb. Re-evaluating his mission statement to help others? A little delinquent of a girl, one of whom he intended to help, steals the work and sells it. He had to avoid that outcome by any means, of course. He nodded Lynn off before she left with her friend Alex. Peter, along with a flock of other students, was herded off into the arena below to play a game. It was a waste of time by Peter's book, and he knows one of these kids would try to take the lead and formulate some kind of half-baked tactical plan. Peter didn't care enough about these games to throw in his two cents - or even rectify any of the plans that would be birthed from this random allotment of students.
When he reached the group of kids that made up Team One, what he founded wasn't too far off from his predictions. Multiple people were pitching in their strategies and one of the girls anointed themselves the leader or tactician, taking control of the situation. Where there is such place for admiration to be found in that, he doubted there she had a solid foundation of reputation and/or respect. Anyways, the plan sounded far too contrived. Too solid. It didn't leave much room for flexibility and assumed the movements of the opposing team and disregarded the potential plans that they themselves had concocted. A good way to disrupt their plans would be to disrupt the standard means of visibility while establishing a form of communication through among the team. Speaking of which, eliminating the standard means of visibility... there seemed to be some implication of the Valjean boy making a desert. Something with sand? If sandstorms could be conjured, okay, but that alone wasn't quite good enough. The whole arena had lights everywhere. The ceiling, inside the bunkers. That means there's an electrical system hooked up.
That means an arm.
Along with the possible side effect of putting the entire arena out of light. He probably ought to warn somebody, if anything, just so he doesn't ruin their fun. Peter only didn't want to play, not ruin the game for everyone. Peter looked around him and at all the students he towered above. It was funny, how he stood out like a sore thumb. Yet nobody payed him heed. He supposed things like that were common around here. He looked at the boy, who was presumably Jake. He thought about this for a moment. He wanted to warn them, but in doing so, he'd end up having to bring up some sort of compensation for them. Another plan. Ah, well. He'll let these kids duke it out. He'll help. A little.
"Do not worry your illusions, Jake." Peter droned monotonically as he set a heavy hand to rest on his shoulder. He looked at the rest of the students around him. If he had a normal body, he'd sigh in resignation. "I will act on my inii--itiative... I may cut the lights in doing so."
Peter pointed a finger at the girl he had met earlier - Alex. "In that event... Alex glows. Alternative to your plan, anyone else that produces light can join with her. The two march forward. We can form a pincer maneuver. Other offensive-oriented individuals hide in the gloom on both sides. Alex and battle buddy generate a threatening presence and creates priority, and prompts an opposing charge. The flanking units come out and clamp down on them in a surprise attack. Two bodies scout along the edges and keeps their distance, then goes for the target during the Charlie Foxtrot."
Honestly, this plan depended on the opposing forces movements as much as Deborah's. But this plan at least intended to control opposing movements - and the element of surprise that comes with cutting the lights, whatever their plan might be, his plan might throw a wrench in it and the first, initial charge of the glowing two should apply enough pressure on them to forget aspects of the plan they had started with. Thusly having to focus on defense.
Peter continued. "If no one else can produce light, then I can join with Alex. When it works, Alex and I can fall back on defense. Jake won't have to put in as much energy."
With a tap of his foot, he let loose a light discharge to count the number of people on the other side. When it stretched along the arena, he noticed something peculiar. On the ceiling, and high on the walls were tiny little lifeforms. Everywhere... he made another discharge with another tap of his foot, a little stronger this time, to easier discern them. They were insectile. They belonged to somebody on the opposing team. The institution wouldn't just let these things nest. They crawled between the light panels, as to not block light and appear suspicious. No one else might have noticed. Peter was still facing upward at the ceiling.
"... If that's what we decide to do, give it a moment. There's a problem that I will bee-eie... able to take care of before we start... must remove the eyes... my plan will be able to disrupt opposing forces' plans. We apply the pressure on them. Until then we can stay put. Pretend we're on the defense."
When he reached the group of kids that made up Team One, what he founded wasn't too far off from his predictions. Multiple people were pitching in their strategies and one of the girls anointed themselves the leader or tactician, taking control of the situation. Where there is such place for admiration to be found in that, he doubted there she had a solid foundation of reputation and/or respect. Anyways, the plan sounded far too contrived. Too solid. It didn't leave much room for flexibility and assumed the movements of the opposing team and disregarded the potential plans that they themselves had concocted. A good way to disrupt their plans would be to disrupt the standard means of visibility while establishing a form of communication through among the team. Speaking of which, eliminating the standard means of visibility... there seemed to be some implication of the Valjean boy making a desert. Something with sand? If sandstorms could be conjured, okay, but that alone wasn't quite good enough. The whole arena had lights everywhere. The ceiling, inside the bunkers. That means there's an electrical system hooked up.
That means an arm.
Along with the possible side effect of putting the entire arena out of light. He probably ought to warn somebody, if anything, just so he doesn't ruin their fun. Peter only didn't want to play, not ruin the game for everyone. Peter looked around him and at all the students he towered above. It was funny, how he stood out like a sore thumb. Yet nobody payed him heed. He supposed things like that were common around here. He looked at the boy, who was presumably Jake. He thought about this for a moment. He wanted to warn them, but in doing so, he'd end up having to bring up some sort of compensation for them. Another plan. Ah, well. He'll let these kids duke it out. He'll help. A little.
"Do not worry your illusions, Jake." Peter droned monotonically as he set a heavy hand to rest on his shoulder. He looked at the rest of the students around him. If he had a normal body, he'd sigh in resignation. "I will act on my inii--itiative... I may cut the lights in doing so."
Peter pointed a finger at the girl he had met earlier - Alex. "In that event... Alex glows. Alternative to your plan, anyone else that produces light can join with her. The two march forward. We can form a pincer maneuver. Other offensive-oriented individuals hide in the gloom on both sides. Alex and battle buddy generate a threatening presence and creates priority, and prompts an opposing charge. The flanking units come out and clamp down on them in a surprise attack. Two bodies scout along the edges and keeps their distance, then goes for the target during the Charlie Foxtrot."
Honestly, this plan depended on the opposing forces movements as much as Deborah's. But this plan at least intended to control opposing movements - and the element of surprise that comes with cutting the lights, whatever their plan might be, his plan might throw a wrench in it and the first, initial charge of the glowing two should apply enough pressure on them to forget aspects of the plan they had started with. Thusly having to focus on defense.
Peter continued. "If no one else can produce light, then I can join with Alex. When it works, Alex and I can fall back on defense. Jake won't have to put in as much energy."
With a tap of his foot, he let loose a light discharge to count the number of people on the other side. When it stretched along the arena, he noticed something peculiar. On the ceiling, and high on the walls were tiny little lifeforms. Everywhere... he made another discharge with another tap of his foot, a little stronger this time, to easier discern them. They were insectile. They belonged to somebody on the opposing team. The institution wouldn't just let these things nest. They crawled between the light panels, as to not block light and appear suspicious. No one else might have noticed. Peter was still facing upward at the ceiling.
"... If that's what we decide to do, give it a moment. There's a problem that I will bee-eie... able to take care of before we start... must remove the eyes... my plan will be able to disrupt opposing forces' plans. We apply the pressure on them. Until then we can stay put. Pretend we're on the defense."
Okay, I put down's Abe sheet before we get any more brutes in. I tried waiting for the next act, but man, there are too many physical fit people, athletes, and hell, even street fighters. I'd personally like more variety. I'd do it myself, but I might be overextending myself. I don't really have the time to put work into three characters.
Basic Information
Name: Abraham Gene
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Golem
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 219 lbs.
Status: New student
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Amber
Ethnicity: African-American, 1/3 Caucasion
Physical Appearance & Attire: Abraham is imposing. He's thugish, he is 6'3" tall, athletically fit, surmounted by broadened shoulders and he carries himself in such esteem you would think that nothing could touch him. In addition to his height, he is muscular. Not just in his arms or abdomen, though - he is the type of guy who you'd think did a full body workout (albeit not a devoted body builder). These aspects, along with his uncommonly thick bones, contributes to his weight. As an African-American and Caucasian mix, his skin is a brown soil color, generally untouched by acne or blemishes, but covered in scars and scrapes from various activities. Among his collection includes a bright, whitened stripe across his thumb - and if you hadn't known better, you would've thought it was cut off at some point or another. Others includes scrapes and burn scars all over his hands and a couple on his arms and legs, which appear to be nothing more than rough housing mementos. A notable one, however, his one that stretches across the right side of his abdomen, down his side. That one he laughs about and claims it had occurred during a knife fight.
His lips are not thick and full and fat and so on (although they are not particularly thin), and the structure of his face appears to resemble that of a Caucasian man, though this is due to his split heritage and the interracial relationship of his grandparents. He has thick eyebrows and lashes which frames his intense amber eyes, and his black hair is dreaded all the way down to an inch below his shoulder blades. His hair, though, is most of the time held back in a loose ponytail gently tied back by two other dreadlocks. Otherwise, his hair would've framed his oval face and draped over his broad shoulders. He is, generally speaking from the subjctive viewpoints of others, described as a fairly attractive individual. If you've a preference those of dark skin, or if skin color does little to determine your attraction to a person, Abraham is quite a looker for his age and posseses admirable physique. He's tall and strong with a charming disposition and demeanor, holding himself in such a way that exudes confidence and invokes envy. Abe is, in most respects, a dreamboat... and he knows it! So predictably, he likes to utilize that to his advantage - as well as a reliable asset.
He has very little in the ways of facial hair or body hair. He has some light unnoticeable stubble across his cheeks and chin, and is as such nothing remarkable. In fact, the lack of body hair seems to do more to compliment his appeal than there a lack of being, considering how his muscle tone shows with greater emphasis and without any obstruction (aside from clothing, of course). His tone is remarkable in comparison to the common man his age; barely a pinch of fat in any one place of his body. This of course contributes to a portion of the justified arrogance he reveals. His walk has swagger and his smooth voice bears a light Boston accent, but he generally does not use very many forms of slang. He's actually rather articulate.
There isn't any one particular outfit that he leans towards - he has many of them. The style may change from a punk vibe, to relaxed, sometimes classy, sportsy, whatever. He generally has a jacket though, usually a denim jacket or a leather one, or a black pea coat if he's feeling particularly hipster that day. He usually avoids shorts. The kind of jeans or pants don't really matter to him, but he tends to shoot for jeans that are baggy around legs but tends to tighten around his waist, providing comfort and usability. His shoes are boots, almost always boots. Steel toed, faded out, around the ankles, much like that of combat boots. Though it may change according to the situation - sports often call for sneakers, and a fancy outing requires more refined dress shoes. These he has, which were custom made for his feet. But mostly, Abraham goes for clothing that is relaxed and easy to move in. V neck shirts are a common occurrence in his wardrobe, long sleeved shirts are too. A belt is always seen around his waist, and he never wears gloves.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: Outwardly, Abraham is charming, forward, and proud. A peculiar mixture of relaxed and energetic are what makes up his disposition. He's talkative in the right crowd and has very many stories to share regarding his hijinks, adventures, and mishappens he has experienced throughout the extent of his life. He is exceptionally charismatic in that he can put a smile on your face or instill fear in your mind when he wants to. He knows how to sweet talk his way out of different situations. However, Abraham is also incredibly arrogant and borderline narcissistic. He is the type of person to view another as far beneath him and rarely sees another at his own level. This is a given, considering the fashion in which he was raised and expectations of others he has been accustomed to. He expects others to listen to him, do as he requests, or he sees it as some sort of challenge. He has a large presence and a forceful voice, coupled with charm, people tend to see him as a leader, and further, he isn't stingy. He can pay you back rather handsomely if you do him a favor or if you get on his good side. This being said, he isn't very frequently refused and so his ugly side isn't seen as often one might expect.
His allegiances often align with those that provide him the greatest benefit for himself, or is of greater influence than, say, a person with little control over the great machine. That said, he can be regarded as selfish, preferring to think of himself before others. This is obvious in politics. He doesn't consider himself a Republic or Democrat. Moral values don't mean terribly much to him. But being in the high upper class with his father, Abraham is more likely to vote for a candidate that benefits him. Those candidates, in result, usually tend to be that of the Republican party. He doesn't give a damn about religion, and immigration is a mixed bag, as it can prove both beneficial and detrimental to some aspects of economy; mostly good, so he doesn't really care about your ethnicity. Any other moral issue that the rest of the country struggles with doesn't bother him. He considers himself above another according to social hierarchy, so unless you have a lot of money, friends, and/or popularity, he'll probably overlook you much like a elephant that overlooks an ant.
Abraham isn't past manipulation or playing dirty - manipulation is one of mankind's greatest weapons ever constructed, after all - he'll use you to get what he wants if that's what it takes, and if you're no longer a useful tool, he'll likely drop all communication with you. However, this isn't a common occurrence, because let's be real here: he already has so much! Any ulterior motives he might have that would require another person to do things for him, he could easily get it done by paying them off with a bribe or forcing it through intimidation - and he likes to play rough. Despite all these tendencies of indirect confrontation, he has zero problems with getting the job done himself. After all, he is a born athlete. He's aggressive, competitive, and will do what it takes to win, because losing isn't an option in his book. He goes by the nuclear effect: if insulted, attacked, or provoked in anyway, he will retaliate in turn with ten times the severity. This is one of the prime reasons nobody likes to mess with him. Abraham is simply far too much trouble than he is worth... and the price is always hefty. He's always up for a fight and he isn't held back by any rules when he does.
The ladies are an entirely different story with him though - he is remarkably flirtatious. If you were a woman, and whether you express an interest in him or not, you will be assaulted with the most fervent case of wanton promiscuity your unsullied virginity (or otherwise) had ever endured. In any other case, his flirtatiousness spares not a single bosom as long as it meets Abraham's qualifications of attractiveness. This take-no-prisoners disposition also gives him a confident "bad boy" vibe that certain classes of young women find irresistible in one's personality. Given his charming demeanor when around the ladies and his appearance, he isn't very often refused. When he is, though, it's almost as if his eyes are trained on that one person. He needs what he can't have after all, and he takes almost a thrill in the "hunt". However, should the neglect continue, there's another side of him that can be seen: his reprehensible sexism. As if the subtle objectification of women he appears to portray wasn't as clear an indicator, consistent refusal will prompt him to apply the label of "prude" to said female. Subtle hints of his sexism can be seen in casual conversations where he seems to imply some extent of inferiority, however, this aspect of his personality is only shown in very specific turns of the conversation and isn't always identifiable.
Innately, Abraham holds much contempt for nearly everything. He doesn't care what the world wants, if it burns or if it strives. He cares solely for himself and, if possible, take out his rage on the environment around him. He has a lot of pent up rage and individuality. His rage doesn't necessarily stem from daddy issues, rather, more from his lack of love for everything else. Of course, his relationship for his family is less than ideal, and he holds contempt for his father in many regards (though mingled in is some respect). These feelings are deep, deep inside him, and it is these feelings where he is able to harvest his ferocity in a fight. But on top of that are layers upon layers of a persona he has chosen to portray himself as. A mask that is so esoterically weaved and layered over these feelings, that he can hide it from even himself at times. It became a persona that he actually connects to and feels everything it is supposed to feel, and this persona runs so deep he may as well have created a new person.
Hobbies/Interests: He takes peculiar enjoyment in fighting others. It gets his blood rushing. Arguments, not quite, as it is more of an annoyance. As such, he's less likely to argue and more likely to walk up and try to start something. Oh, and of course, women. Abe sure loves the ladies. Certain kinds of ladies, mind you . Life is a beauty pageant and Abe is Simon Cowell. Sports and music are also outlets that Abe can pursue, and are perhaps areas in which he can find acquaintences. Peons. Tools. Those sorts of people. Which is, to say, everybody.
Skills/Talents: Abraham was provided many opportunities during his life, so as such, he was able to build up quite a set of skills. When it comes to athletics, he's in a niche of his own: He has taken martial arts - krav maga, an Israeli art. He had actually worked his way up pretty high, but due to abusing the teachings he had received there, he was refused any further services before he could become a black belt. That aside, the actual self-defense training has managed to stick with him to this day. He always did participate in sports like soccer, football, basketball, and basically anything that was competitive and could get his blood flowing. He was a gymnast for a short period of time, and ran track. In his spare time, when he was unable to participate in athletics, Abraham worked to gain a fair measure of musical talent and managed to carve himself a little place in stringed instruments: he's had lessons in guitar and transferred that over whilst learning the ukulele, and just a little practice on a friend's bass. Abe is incredibly practiced in his superhuman abilities, and knows how to implement them well - he derives a great deal of pride in learning how to utilize his abilities to their fullest extent. During his practice, he learned a few tricks that he keeps up his sleeves.
Prized Possession: There isn't much Abraham holds on to very dearly. Everything is material to him. Outwardly, you would think it is his pride. Inwardly, it's a memory.
Quote(s): "Listen darling, people say you can't buy happiness with money... which is ridiculous, I know! I've proved that wrong time and again, but how about I show you what that's like first hand?"
"Jesus-fucking-Christ on a stick..." Abraham grumbles to himself beneath his breath. However, an itching nuisance of a thought tickled the back of his brain, prompting a sideward glance. Out of the corner of his eyes, Abe came to realize that he's in a church, and glances at a crucifix with the depiction Jesus nailed upon it, making him subsequently recoil. "Whoops."
History/Bio: Abraham was born to a very wealthy and prestiged family. His father is a director of an oil company, so that said, they were extremely well off. The mother left early on leaving not much of a mother figure to be around aside from the maids that were paid to service the family. Aside from that, there isn't much to be said about his early youth, aside that he was provided with an extensive above-average education, regularly encouraged to do well in the private school for the upper class in which he was enrolled in, so that he may excel much like his father. His father, which, never really had the time to behave as a proper parent or role model to the boy, so he was mostly raised by weak-willed servants. This, predictably, can lead to some peculiar growing up patterns.
When Abe was five, he got a little brother. A half brother, in all honesty, but they were brothers nonetheless. They grew up together from then on. As soon as Abe was old enough to get into sports, he did, and he found it exhilarating. The adrenaline and competition meant everything to him - he wanted to win, to be the best, and feel magnificent while doing so, as though he were on top of the world. He didn't received much support from his father, who tended to just look at him and expected improvement the next time around - that's how economics worked, after all. Unfortunately, it was twisted into a vicious cycle and it eventually developed a sense of domination in Abraham, that he had to be better, otherwise he wasn't good enough. Him and his brother, as they got older, always wrestled. He got into track, played on teams in sports, which was generally football, basketball, and soccer. Of course, some of these routines couldn't continue when it rained or if he got sick or even grounded. There wasn't many curricular activities he could do if those options weren't available. So when he was forced to stay home, he managed to pick up a different hobby: guitar lessons. It started simple at first, when he began to teach himself what each string sounded like. As he grew to like it, he was receiving lessons.
There's the natural progression of events that continued on - he likes sports and music, and was more or less a wealthy child that pursued the hobbies of what was often considered to be that of a class for citizens under the upper class. In addition, his father wasn't fond of his son's aggressive temperament, and perhaps a top of the line martial arts instructor could help calm him down with some discipline while still giving him a hobby he'd like. He received these "krav maga" classes when he was fourteen, and at first, they didn't seem to do much good at keeping him down, but as time progressed, he seems better at keeping control of that temper. He was disciplined. However, when it came to sparring, he was ferocious and aggressive and sometimes had to be restrained. Perhaps other activities are necessary? Among the various solutions were, firstly, an outlet where he can learn to socialize properly with others. This is where he learned about his fondness with girls and how to be the charming devil he was always meant to be - and secondly, a way to expend his energy without directing it at another person. So for a very short period of time, Abe was encouraged to enter gymnastics. While all the acrobatics were cool and fun, he figured he could learn that on his own via freerunning without wearing an uncomfortably tight unitard.
His powers began to develop when he was 15. It was an incredibly scary experience for him, seeing how he reacted with stone and all that. He was a dirty little secret for a while before he could control it, and it was a secret that stayed strictly between father and son. Apparently, the father knew something of the meta humans, though didn't quite drop the bomb on him about it... and although surprised, he wasn't traumatically shocked by the knowledge of his son being one. It took a while, perhaps a week or two, of consistent tinkering to learn how to mess with the power, to at least keep it from activating by accident. Enough so that he can continue his regular life. He continued his active life as he would, but now with something else to practice on the sideline. He had a double life: a normal one, and then one as a meta-human, where he would practice his abilities when he wasn't doing anything else. And he soon began to realize that it was actually a pretty god damn awesome thing that he could do. Something that made him unique and set him apart! Something that could also be used to assert dominance. This pride and cocky attitude got a pretty secure hold on his life, his confidence affecting him in somewhat unpredictable ways. His sparring in martial arts was once again aggressive, and he got kicked out of the dojo when he was 17 for breaking the sternum of another student with a single punch, as well as knocking them ten feet back (it was at that point he learned how to solidify the bones in his arm for a more powerful blow). This of course pissed off his father.
Life drastically changed when Abe was 17, and they learned when a shooting occurred at a theater killed Abraham's brother and one of security guards that escorted him. His father drank, and Abe, well, essentially became the devil incarnate. He was consumed with rage; wrath and other deadly sins took over his life. He fell out of loop with his usual self. He spent his time in the bad part of town in an alley, unbeknownst to his father, learning how to use his ability, and then beating people with it. Of course, these people were thugs and other crooks of that nature, making Abe a guy that resembled something of a vigilante. When spending his time there, he also learned of those street fight circles you can win and get paid for, much like underground boxing. Naturally, Abe didn't care about the money out of it, it was an outlet for his aggression and anger and he took advantage of it. There being no rules, and ghettos not being a stranger to superhumans, he was allowed to use his power. They didn't quite expect Abe's power to basically be made for close fighting.
Shit hit the fan when Abe was involved in some terrible incident and all of the commotion grabbed the attention of Abe's father, who was unaware of all of Abraham's delinquent behavior meanwhile, which caused him to pull Abe out of prison (he was 18 then), and give him the loudest lecture of a lifetime. This of course brought to much attention to the family on the press, and he sent his son away to live on his own for a while (with a fair amount of money to live on should he be out of work). A good place to go was a different busy city swarming with activity and police, in Chicago. Abe went to live there, hoping maybe life there away from home would help to temper his son's behavior, as well as discipline him so that he isn't so willing to resort to his abilities so easily. Though honestly, Abe earnestly disagrees, and believes that his power is a part of who he is and that he should embrace it, not hide it. That being said, he's still going around town performing vigilante work. After a brief lapse of time, an officer caught him about to start a fight with a similarly shady man and Abe was thrown in the Chicago prison for a short night. It was about a week after that he received mail from his father expressing his disatisfaction with Abraham, and included in the mail was a letter concerning the 218 Academy. A place for people with powers like him, to learn control and restraint. Also a place where, his father had at least hoped, would aid in disciplining him.
Family:
Kenneth Gene - Father
Cheyenne Garter - Mother (unknown whereabouts)
Samuel "Sammy" Gene - Brother (deceased)
Relationships
Relationships:
[Jake Valos] | [Poor] | [Pathetic]
"What, this tool? He's here? I hadn't seen him years! But it's gonna take a lot more than a little bit o' peach hairs on his wee P-Jordan to man him the fuck up. A real "puts milk and sugar in his coffee" kinda guy. Ah, well... fucking with this kid is gonna be entertaining at least!"
[Gabriella Valos] | [Poor] | [Would bang]
"A-ha! If poochie is here, so is chica! Damn bitch would probably try to kill me if nothin' stopped her. Key word: try. But damn if she ain't rockin' that leather. Me and her? I'd take that up in a heartbeat."
[Jaska Valos] | [Indifferent] | [Little cretin]
"Last I saw him, he was some little shit. The freak tried eating my fucking shoe. Didn't he know they were worth more than he is? Little devil..."
Abilities
Power Class: Elemental, Anatomical
Power: He is, if you watch Avatar, what you would expect from an earthbender and even more. He has the capability of manipulating rock and the ground itself and many of its variations, to his will. He can form it to his desire and wreak havoc with it as he pleases. His range is as far as the eye can discern and his power is as strong as his ferocity. The many different forms and bodies of stone and earth he can mold can have an influence on how the rocks are manipulated, and he can carve and shape it as he deems necessary. He can shape the stone so that it can be worn around his body, whether it be armor, a weapon, or giant fists. He can erect giant pillars and spires from the ground as long as there is enough stone in the vicinity to fuel it and as well as rectangular walls and shields - even domes. He can disconnect these from the ground and send it flying through the air or skidding across the ground and crush the target behind the thousands of pounds of force its impact generates. As Abraham is able to mold stone, he can, if he so chooses, reconstruct damaged structures or sculpt a brand new structure entirely. As he is normally, he is very much capable of manipulating stone using fluid movements, though is not restricted to doing just that.
Stone Embodiment: Abraham can morph his whole body into cold, hard stone, or selectively morph different parts of his body. This also cause his body to become much denser, heavier, and durable, allowing him to pack more power at the trade-off of speed. Given his power of stone manipulation, he still retains enough mobility to keep himself moving, though his speed is severely hampered and he lacks the kind of agility he'd usually have. It's like going from motorcycle to foot scooter. On top of packing a lot of weight behind his punches, the ability to manipulate stone helps him packs tons more power behind his monster hay-makers and grants him super-strength that can compete even with the strongest of superheroes. Abe's wit has helped him think through the different aspects of his power, and so he recognized that, when stone, his own body can be altered as he pleases. This said, he is capable of changing the shape of his own body to serve his purpose - whether it be changing his hands to hammer or blades - the latter being particularly frightful, given how a pointy thing being made of stone and the size of a grown man's arm is being lunged straight through your body, and if you survive that, congratulations asshole! You now have stone sediments coursing through your bloodstream. Speaking of sediments, sandstorms are not beyond Abraham's ability. Although they are not a staple of his preferred fighting style and is not quite as practiced with them as say, Valjean is, his sandstorms can still be quite dangerous - why? Because although they may not have the wild winds or range and density as Valjean's, he can deconstruct stone into jagged and razor-edged shards and grains of sand, you impetuous pisshead. Way to go running head on into the equivalent of a dryer filled with razor blades and sandpaper.
Like many superhumans, Abe has a couple of secret weapons, none he'd use lightly. But should the situation ever call for such a measure, he can go stone form. Which is cool in itself, right? Well, from there, Abe can begin an exhaustive process where he takes in the stone from his environment into his own body before his size and mass proliferates into that of a massive golem - easily as tall as telephone poles. While his standard stone embodiment stands as it is as being extraordinarily durable, turning into the Golem leaves him impervious to almost all physical attacks, attacks on his biological system, and allow him to deal devastating strikes to his foes. Unfortunately, Abraham has yet to master this ability. In fact, he has yet to fulfill one successful transformation. The patience and tedious process doesn't match will with Abe's fast-paced and impulsive behavior. However, should he ever master it, there's quite the epiphany... he takes in stone from his environment - there isn't a real set limit. The process is exhaustive, but should he ever be able to keep going, he can take in as much as stone as is provided to him and reach colossal levels that'd compare to (or perhaps even dwarf!) the Greek titans - though this is, to the fortune of his enemies, restricted by his stamina. The most he would be able to bring himself to do is to be as tall as telephone poles - and, of course, the girth of modern homes and the weight of a mountain. It is in his Golem form that his power is nearly boundless, and as such, provides more strength behind the changes to his environment that he is capable of instilling. Those spires he could erect before become miniature mountains, and the defensive walls become sheer cliffs. These he can launch with such power that it can utterly shatter a person's body were they not the most enduring superhuman! However, as a golem, he lacks mobility. He can make huge, massive steps, but at a super slow pace. Everything about him is slower and predictable, but should he hit somebody, they're in for a world of hurt.
He has a unique ability he has recently been able to work out - regeneration. If he gets a cut, chops off his thumb, he can turn part of his body to stone - or his whole body, if he wishes - and manipulates stone to form to his original body, and revert his body back to normal, so that the stone thumb that replaced the prior one becomes a fleshy part of his body. Quite literally, he can make replacements. However, there is still the case of the utter soul-wrenching pain that comes with dismemberment. Regeneration isn't an easy process when you're under such a large amount of pain and stress, and it is a somewhat slow process given how what stamina Abraham has left is being put into regrowing a limb whilst under agony - there needs to be stone around that he can take into his body and replace the limb, otherwise, he needs the limb itself. What'll be left is very obvious scarring (such as the scar on his thumb) that shows this, but the body part is otherwise fully functional. However, he will still experience aches and phantom pains for a while after the regeneration and it generates trauma on the body. It is an ability that took a great amount of time to get working properly, and it takes a great deal of body memory, as well as contorting his limbs into different shapes. So these are not abilities he did little work to earn. He practiced extensively with his power to fully understand the ins and outs of this ability.
Weaknesses/Limitations/Drawbacks: Let's be real here: Abraham is a physical juggernaut locked down tighter than a nun's chastity belt. If your aim is to dominate him via fisticuffs, you're gonna get wrecked. Though while his defense is awe-inspiring and his power terrifying, he operates rather simply. In a fight, he generally runs off of instinct and his training, and krav maga was made for street fighting. In more serious fights, he gets a form of tunnel vision that, while bad news for his target, makes him narrow-sighted and easy to predict. A clever opponent may outsmart him in a fight. Or perhaps your power is psychic in nature. In fights, his mind is a flurry. If a power allows someone to mess with his mind, he'll go nuts or shut down. He has very little defenses against mental attacks beyond his own conviction and - should he fall into it - being blinded by the seething rage that fuels him. It's a berserker mode that puts him in one train of thought, and while useful against mental attacks, everything around him is going to be messed way the hell up and he is going to feel like shit when he gets out of it.
His powers do have limits and drawbacks. Whilst in stone form, Abraham's control over the stone around him is less refined. It becomes immensely more difficult for him to create large, dramatic structures and spires. While being in stone form does help him generate more power in the smaller environmental changes he can produce, his range and the size of his manipulate is on a smaller scale. Large-scale manipulation requires him to be in his more vulnerable and fleshy state. In this stone form, he is also restricted to contact. In order to bend the rocks and earth around him, he must remain on the ground and keeping himself firmly on the ground, Stone embodiment is much slower than his standard body, and his speed is cut down by at least half. So to be more efficient at fighting in a fast-paced match, he has to combine his regular body and stone embodiment, leaving him vulnerable in some areas to make up for speed so he can properly defend himself. His stone body, while incredibly durable, doesn't flex. Not like metal or flesh does, and that is why rock, under enough pressure at the right angle, can break easier than metal. However, his body is still dense and solid and would take tremendous force with the right material to actually break him.
Or perhaps this isn't a fight we are talking about. Maybe it's social interaction, or maybe a diplomatic mission. While charismatic in the sense he can play a fun guy very well and get people to like them, he isn't nice. As such, he doesn't like leading people. He is a piss poor leader because he doesn't really like people a whole lot. Maybe individual people, but as a group, Abe just doesn't like people. So he's a poor leader. And maybe if you catch him in a mood, he's poor at making friends. Or perhaps he's just judging you by the shoes you wear. Either way, he makes enemies easily, and has the audacity to not even consider them worthy of calling them an enemy. He's extremely arrogant that way. He'll blow a diplomatic mission if he feels he's been slighted and he isn't much of a tactician. He just has two gears - stop and go. That said, he can play the charm just right if he has the proper incentive. Just cross your fingers that he doesn't get offended. His brand of "justice" is a very controversial one, and while he can identify the difference in moral right and wrongs, his punishment is usually severe. Abraham sees it as justified.
Other: The goal of Abraham is to present a challenge or opposing force, one in which other characters can rebel against and form relationships with other through a mutual enemy. While Abraham is capable of becoming friends with other characters should the player play their cards right, or if we happen to work something out that'd make an interesting plot device, Abe isn't meant to be a likable or easily-trumped character by any means. So I offend anyone while writing him, that's great. I'll be thoroughly satisfied in knowing Abraham is an asshole.
Name: Abraham Gene
Nickname/Alias/Etc: Golem
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 219 lbs.
Status: New student
Appearance
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Amber
Ethnicity: African-American, 1/3 Caucasion
Physical Appearance & Attire: Abraham is imposing. He's thugish, he is 6'3" tall, athletically fit, surmounted by broadened shoulders and he carries himself in such esteem you would think that nothing could touch him. In addition to his height, he is muscular. Not just in his arms or abdomen, though - he is the type of guy who you'd think did a full body workout (albeit not a devoted body builder). These aspects, along with his uncommonly thick bones, contributes to his weight. As an African-American and Caucasian mix, his skin is a brown soil color, generally untouched by acne or blemishes, but covered in scars and scrapes from various activities. Among his collection includes a bright, whitened stripe across his thumb - and if you hadn't known better, you would've thought it was cut off at some point or another. Others includes scrapes and burn scars all over his hands and a couple on his arms and legs, which appear to be nothing more than rough housing mementos. A notable one, however, his one that stretches across the right side of his abdomen, down his side. That one he laughs about and claims it had occurred during a knife fight.
His lips are not thick and full and fat and so on (although they are not particularly thin), and the structure of his face appears to resemble that of a Caucasian man, though this is due to his split heritage and the interracial relationship of his grandparents. He has thick eyebrows and lashes which frames his intense amber eyes, and his black hair is dreaded all the way down to an inch below his shoulder blades. His hair, though, is most of the time held back in a loose ponytail gently tied back by two other dreadlocks. Otherwise, his hair would've framed his oval face and draped over his broad shoulders. He is, generally speaking from the subjctive viewpoints of others, described as a fairly attractive individual. If you've a preference those of dark skin, or if skin color does little to determine your attraction to a person, Abraham is quite a looker for his age and posseses admirable physique. He's tall and strong with a charming disposition and demeanor, holding himself in such a way that exudes confidence and invokes envy. Abe is, in most respects, a dreamboat... and he knows it! So predictably, he likes to utilize that to his advantage - as well as a reliable asset.
He has very little in the ways of facial hair or body hair. He has some light unnoticeable stubble across his cheeks and chin, and is as such nothing remarkable. In fact, the lack of body hair seems to do more to compliment his appeal than there a lack of being, considering how his muscle tone shows with greater emphasis and without any obstruction (aside from clothing, of course). His tone is remarkable in comparison to the common man his age; barely a pinch of fat in any one place of his body. This of course contributes to a portion of the justified arrogance he reveals. His walk has swagger and his smooth voice bears a light Boston accent, but he generally does not use very many forms of slang. He's actually rather articulate.
There isn't any one particular outfit that he leans towards - he has many of them. The style may change from a punk vibe, to relaxed, sometimes classy, sportsy, whatever. He generally has a jacket though, usually a denim jacket or a leather one, or a black pea coat if he's feeling particularly hipster that day. He usually avoids shorts. The kind of jeans or pants don't really matter to him, but he tends to shoot for jeans that are baggy around legs but tends to tighten around his waist, providing comfort and usability. His shoes are boots, almost always boots. Steel toed, faded out, around the ankles, much like that of combat boots. Though it may change according to the situation - sports often call for sneakers, and a fancy outing requires more refined dress shoes. These he has, which were custom made for his feet. But mostly, Abraham goes for clothing that is relaxed and easy to move in. V neck shirts are a common occurrence in his wardrobe, long sleeved shirts are too. A belt is always seen around his waist, and he never wears gloves.
Personality
Outward & Innate Personality: Outwardly, Abraham is charming, forward, and proud. A peculiar mixture of relaxed and energetic are what makes up his disposition. He's talkative in the right crowd and has very many stories to share regarding his hijinks, adventures, and mishappens he has experienced throughout the extent of his life. He is exceptionally charismatic in that he can put a smile on your face or instill fear in your mind when he wants to. He knows how to sweet talk his way out of different situations. However, Abraham is also incredibly arrogant and borderline narcissistic. He is the type of person to view another as far beneath him and rarely sees another at his own level. This is a given, considering the fashion in which he was raised and expectations of others he has been accustomed to. He expects others to listen to him, do as he requests, or he sees it as some sort of challenge. He has a large presence and a forceful voice, coupled with charm, people tend to see him as a leader, and further, he isn't stingy. He can pay you back rather handsomely if you do him a favor or if you get on his good side. This being said, he isn't very frequently refused and so his ugly side isn't seen as often one might expect.
His allegiances often align with those that provide him the greatest benefit for himself, or is of greater influence than, say, a person with little control over the great machine. That said, he can be regarded as selfish, preferring to think of himself before others. This is obvious in politics. He doesn't consider himself a Republic or Democrat. Moral values don't mean terribly much to him. But being in the high upper class with his father, Abraham is more likely to vote for a candidate that benefits him. Those candidates, in result, usually tend to be that of the Republican party. He doesn't give a damn about religion, and immigration is a mixed bag, as it can prove both beneficial and detrimental to some aspects of economy; mostly good, so he doesn't really care about your ethnicity. Any other moral issue that the rest of the country struggles with doesn't bother him. He considers himself above another according to social hierarchy, so unless you have a lot of money, friends, and/or popularity, he'll probably overlook you much like a elephant that overlooks an ant.
Abraham isn't past manipulation or playing dirty - manipulation is one of mankind's greatest weapons ever constructed, after all - he'll use you to get what he wants if that's what it takes, and if you're no longer a useful tool, he'll likely drop all communication with you. However, this isn't a common occurrence, because let's be real here: he already has so much! Any ulterior motives he might have that would require another person to do things for him, he could easily get it done by paying them off with a bribe or forcing it through intimidation - and he likes to play rough. Despite all these tendencies of indirect confrontation, he has zero problems with getting the job done himself. After all, he is a born athlete. He's aggressive, competitive, and will do what it takes to win, because losing isn't an option in his book. He goes by the nuclear effect: if insulted, attacked, or provoked in anyway, he will retaliate in turn with ten times the severity. This is one of the prime reasons nobody likes to mess with him. Abraham is simply far too much trouble than he is worth... and the price is always hefty. He's always up for a fight and he isn't held back by any rules when he does.
The ladies are an entirely different story with him though - he is remarkably flirtatious. If you were a woman, and whether you express an interest in him or not, you will be assaulted with the most fervent case of wanton promiscuity your unsullied virginity (or otherwise) had ever endured. In any other case, his flirtatiousness spares not a single bosom as long as it meets Abraham's qualifications of attractiveness. This take-no-prisoners disposition also gives him a confident "bad boy" vibe that certain classes of young women find irresistible in one's personality. Given his charming demeanor when around the ladies and his appearance, he isn't very often refused. When he is, though, it's almost as if his eyes are trained on that one person. He needs what he can't have after all, and he takes almost a thrill in the "hunt". However, should the neglect continue, there's another side of him that can be seen: his reprehensible sexism. As if the subtle objectification of women he appears to portray wasn't as clear an indicator, consistent refusal will prompt him to apply the label of "prude" to said female. Subtle hints of his sexism can be seen in casual conversations where he seems to imply some extent of inferiority, however, this aspect of his personality is only shown in very specific turns of the conversation and isn't always identifiable.
Innately, Abraham holds much contempt for nearly everything. He doesn't care what the world wants, if it burns or if it strives. He cares solely for himself and, if possible, take out his rage on the environment around him. He has a lot of pent up rage and individuality. His rage doesn't necessarily stem from daddy issues, rather, more from his lack of love for everything else. Of course, his relationship for his family is less than ideal, and he holds contempt for his father in many regards (though mingled in is some respect). These feelings are deep, deep inside him, and it is these feelings where he is able to harvest his ferocity in a fight. But on top of that are layers upon layers of a persona he has chosen to portray himself as. A mask that is so esoterically weaved and layered over these feelings, that he can hide it from even himself at times. It became a persona that he actually connects to and feels everything it is supposed to feel, and this persona runs so deep he may as well have created a new person.
Hobbies/Interests: He takes peculiar enjoyment in fighting others. It gets his blood rushing. Arguments, not quite, as it is more of an annoyance. As such, he's less likely to argue and more likely to walk up and try to start something. Oh, and of course, women. Abe sure loves the ladies. Certain kinds of ladies, mind you . Life is a beauty pageant and Abe is Simon Cowell. Sports and music are also outlets that Abe can pursue, and are perhaps areas in which he can find acquaintences. Peons. Tools. Those sorts of people. Which is, to say, everybody.
Skills/Talents: Abraham was provided many opportunities during his life, so as such, he was able to build up quite a set of skills. When it comes to athletics, he's in a niche of his own: He has taken martial arts - krav maga, an Israeli art. He had actually worked his way up pretty high, but due to abusing the teachings he had received there, he was refused any further services before he could become a black belt. That aside, the actual self-defense training has managed to stick with him to this day. He always did participate in sports like soccer, football, basketball, and basically anything that was competitive and could get his blood flowing. He was a gymnast for a short period of time, and ran track. In his spare time, when he was unable to participate in athletics, Abraham worked to gain a fair measure of musical talent and managed to carve himself a little place in stringed instruments: he's had lessons in guitar and transferred that over whilst learning the ukulele, and just a little practice on a friend's bass. Abe is incredibly practiced in his superhuman abilities, and knows how to implement them well - he derives a great deal of pride in learning how to utilize his abilities to their fullest extent. During his practice, he learned a few tricks that he keeps up his sleeves.
Prized Possession: There isn't much Abraham holds on to very dearly. Everything is material to him. Outwardly, you would think it is his pride. Inwardly, it's a memory.
Quote(s): "Listen darling, people say you can't buy happiness with money... which is ridiculous, I know! I've proved that wrong time and again, but how about I show you what that's like first hand?"
"Jesus-fucking-Christ on a stick..." Abraham grumbles to himself beneath his breath. However, an itching nuisance of a thought tickled the back of his brain, prompting a sideward glance. Out of the corner of his eyes, Abe came to realize that he's in a church, and glances at a crucifix with the depiction Jesus nailed upon it, making him subsequently recoil. "Whoops."
History/Bio: Abraham was born to a very wealthy and prestiged family. His father is a director of an oil company, so that said, they were extremely well off. The mother left early on leaving not much of a mother figure to be around aside from the maids that were paid to service the family. Aside from that, there isn't much to be said about his early youth, aside that he was provided with an extensive above-average education, regularly encouraged to do well in the private school for the upper class in which he was enrolled in, so that he may excel much like his father. His father, which, never really had the time to behave as a proper parent or role model to the boy, so he was mostly raised by weak-willed servants. This, predictably, can lead to some peculiar growing up patterns.
When Abe was five, he got a little brother. A half brother, in all honesty, but they were brothers nonetheless. They grew up together from then on. As soon as Abe was old enough to get into sports, he did, and he found it exhilarating. The adrenaline and competition meant everything to him - he wanted to win, to be the best, and feel magnificent while doing so, as though he were on top of the world. He didn't received much support from his father, who tended to just look at him and expected improvement the next time around - that's how economics worked, after all. Unfortunately, it was twisted into a vicious cycle and it eventually developed a sense of domination in Abraham, that he had to be better, otherwise he wasn't good enough. Him and his brother, as they got older, always wrestled. He got into track, played on teams in sports, which was generally football, basketball, and soccer. Of course, some of these routines couldn't continue when it rained or if he got sick or even grounded. There wasn't many curricular activities he could do if those options weren't available. So when he was forced to stay home, he managed to pick up a different hobby: guitar lessons. It started simple at first, when he began to teach himself what each string sounded like. As he grew to like it, he was receiving lessons.
There's the natural progression of events that continued on - he likes sports and music, and was more or less a wealthy child that pursued the hobbies of what was often considered to be that of a class for citizens under the upper class. In addition, his father wasn't fond of his son's aggressive temperament, and perhaps a top of the line martial arts instructor could help calm him down with some discipline while still giving him a hobby he'd like. He received these "krav maga" classes when he was fourteen, and at first, they didn't seem to do much good at keeping him down, but as time progressed, he seems better at keeping control of that temper. He was disciplined. However, when it came to sparring, he was ferocious and aggressive and sometimes had to be restrained. Perhaps other activities are necessary? Among the various solutions were, firstly, an outlet where he can learn to socialize properly with others. This is where he learned about his fondness with girls and how to be the charming devil he was always meant to be - and secondly, a way to expend his energy without directing it at another person. So for a very short period of time, Abe was encouraged to enter gymnastics. While all the acrobatics were cool and fun, he figured he could learn that on his own via freerunning without wearing an uncomfortably tight unitard.
His powers began to develop when he was 15. It was an incredibly scary experience for him, seeing how he reacted with stone and all that. He was a dirty little secret for a while before he could control it, and it was a secret that stayed strictly between father and son. Apparently, the father knew something of the meta humans, though didn't quite drop the bomb on him about it... and although surprised, he wasn't traumatically shocked by the knowledge of his son being one. It took a while, perhaps a week or two, of consistent tinkering to learn how to mess with the power, to at least keep it from activating by accident. Enough so that he can continue his regular life. He continued his active life as he would, but now with something else to practice on the sideline. He had a double life: a normal one, and then one as a meta-human, where he would practice his abilities when he wasn't doing anything else. And he soon began to realize that it was actually a pretty god damn awesome thing that he could do. Something that made him unique and set him apart! Something that could also be used to assert dominance. This pride and cocky attitude got a pretty secure hold on his life, his confidence affecting him in somewhat unpredictable ways. His sparring in martial arts was once again aggressive, and he got kicked out of the dojo when he was 17 for breaking the sternum of another student with a single punch, as well as knocking them ten feet back (it was at that point he learned how to solidify the bones in his arm for a more powerful blow). This of course pissed off his father.
Life drastically changed when Abe was 17, and they learned when a shooting occurred at a theater killed Abraham's brother and one of security guards that escorted him. His father drank, and Abe, well, essentially became the devil incarnate. He was consumed with rage; wrath and other deadly sins took over his life. He fell out of loop with his usual self. He spent his time in the bad part of town in an alley, unbeknownst to his father, learning how to use his ability, and then beating people with it. Of course, these people were thugs and other crooks of that nature, making Abe a guy that resembled something of a vigilante. When spending his time there, he also learned of those street fight circles you can win and get paid for, much like underground boxing. Naturally, Abe didn't care about the money out of it, it was an outlet for his aggression and anger and he took advantage of it. There being no rules, and ghettos not being a stranger to superhumans, he was allowed to use his power. They didn't quite expect Abe's power to basically be made for close fighting.
Shit hit the fan when Abe was involved in some terrible incident and all of the commotion grabbed the attention of Abe's father, who was unaware of all of Abraham's delinquent behavior meanwhile, which caused him to pull Abe out of prison (he was 18 then), and give him the loudest lecture of a lifetime. This of course brought to much attention to the family on the press, and he sent his son away to live on his own for a while (with a fair amount of money to live on should he be out of work). A good place to go was a different busy city swarming with activity and police, in Chicago. Abe went to live there, hoping maybe life there away from home would help to temper his son's behavior, as well as discipline him so that he isn't so willing to resort to his abilities so easily. Though honestly, Abe earnestly disagrees, and believes that his power is a part of who he is and that he should embrace it, not hide it. That being said, he's still going around town performing vigilante work. After a brief lapse of time, an officer caught him about to start a fight with a similarly shady man and Abe was thrown in the Chicago prison for a short night. It was about a week after that he received mail from his father expressing his disatisfaction with Abraham, and included in the mail was a letter concerning the 218 Academy. A place for people with powers like him, to learn control and restraint. Also a place where, his father had at least hoped, would aid in disciplining him.
Family:
Kenneth Gene - Father
Cheyenne Garter - Mother (unknown whereabouts)
Samuel "Sammy" Gene - Brother (deceased)
Relationships
Relationships:
[Jake Valos] | [Poor] | [Pathetic]
"What, this tool? He's here? I hadn't seen him years! But it's gonna take a lot more than a little bit o' peach hairs on his wee P-Jordan to man him the fuck up. A real "puts milk and sugar in his coffee" kinda guy. Ah, well... fucking with this kid is gonna be entertaining at least!"
[Gabriella Valos] | [Poor] | [Would bang]
"A-ha! If poochie is here, so is chica! Damn bitch would probably try to kill me if nothin' stopped her. Key word: try. But damn if she ain't rockin' that leather. Me and her? I'd take that up in a heartbeat."
[Jaska Valos] | [Indifferent] | [Little cretin]
"Last I saw him, he was some little shit. The freak tried eating my fucking shoe. Didn't he know they were worth more than he is? Little devil..."
Abilities
Power Class: Elemental, Anatomical
Power: He is, if you watch Avatar, what you would expect from an earthbender and even more. He has the capability of manipulating rock and the ground itself and many of its variations, to his will. He can form it to his desire and wreak havoc with it as he pleases. His range is as far as the eye can discern and his power is as strong as his ferocity. The many different forms and bodies of stone and earth he can mold can have an influence on how the rocks are manipulated, and he can carve and shape it as he deems necessary. He can shape the stone so that it can be worn around his body, whether it be armor, a weapon, or giant fists. He can erect giant pillars and spires from the ground as long as there is enough stone in the vicinity to fuel it and as well as rectangular walls and shields - even domes. He can disconnect these from the ground and send it flying through the air or skidding across the ground and crush the target behind the thousands of pounds of force its impact generates. As Abraham is able to mold stone, he can, if he so chooses, reconstruct damaged structures or sculpt a brand new structure entirely. As he is normally, he is very much capable of manipulating stone using fluid movements, though is not restricted to doing just that.
Stone Embodiment: Abraham can morph his whole body into cold, hard stone, or selectively morph different parts of his body. This also cause his body to become much denser, heavier, and durable, allowing him to pack more power at the trade-off of speed. Given his power of stone manipulation, he still retains enough mobility to keep himself moving, though his speed is severely hampered and he lacks the kind of agility he'd usually have. It's like going from motorcycle to foot scooter. On top of packing a lot of weight behind his punches, the ability to manipulate stone helps him packs tons more power behind his monster hay-makers and grants him super-strength that can compete even with the strongest of superheroes. Abe's wit has helped him think through the different aspects of his power, and so he recognized that, when stone, his own body can be altered as he pleases. This said, he is capable of changing the shape of his own body to serve his purpose - whether it be changing his hands to hammer or blades - the latter being particularly frightful, given how a pointy thing being made of stone and the size of a grown man's arm is being lunged straight through your body, and if you survive that, congratulations asshole! You now have stone sediments coursing through your bloodstream. Speaking of sediments, sandstorms are not beyond Abraham's ability. Although they are not a staple of his preferred fighting style and is not quite as practiced with them as say, Valjean is, his sandstorms can still be quite dangerous - why? Because although they may not have the wild winds or range and density as Valjean's, he can deconstruct stone into jagged and razor-edged shards and grains of sand, you impetuous pisshead. Way to go running head on into the equivalent of a dryer filled with razor blades and sandpaper.
Like many superhumans, Abe has a couple of secret weapons, none he'd use lightly. But should the situation ever call for such a measure, he can go stone form. Which is cool in itself, right? Well, from there, Abe can begin an exhaustive process where he takes in the stone from his environment into his own body before his size and mass proliferates into that of a massive golem - easily as tall as telephone poles. While his standard stone embodiment stands as it is as being extraordinarily durable, turning into the Golem leaves him impervious to almost all physical attacks, attacks on his biological system, and allow him to deal devastating strikes to his foes. Unfortunately, Abraham has yet to master this ability. In fact, he has yet to fulfill one successful transformation. The patience and tedious process doesn't match will with Abe's fast-paced and impulsive behavior. However, should he ever master it, there's quite the epiphany... he takes in stone from his environment - there isn't a real set limit. The process is exhaustive, but should he ever be able to keep going, he can take in as much as stone as is provided to him and reach colossal levels that'd compare to (or perhaps even dwarf!) the Greek titans - though this is, to the fortune of his enemies, restricted by his stamina. The most he would be able to bring himself to do is to be as tall as telephone poles - and, of course, the girth of modern homes and the weight of a mountain. It is in his Golem form that his power is nearly boundless, and as such, provides more strength behind the changes to his environment that he is capable of instilling. Those spires he could erect before become miniature mountains, and the defensive walls become sheer cliffs. These he can launch with such power that it can utterly shatter a person's body were they not the most enduring superhuman! However, as a golem, he lacks mobility. He can make huge, massive steps, but at a super slow pace. Everything about him is slower and predictable, but should he hit somebody, they're in for a world of hurt.
He has a unique ability he has recently been able to work out - regeneration. If he gets a cut, chops off his thumb, he can turn part of his body to stone - or his whole body, if he wishes - and manipulates stone to form to his original body, and revert his body back to normal, so that the stone thumb that replaced the prior one becomes a fleshy part of his body. Quite literally, he can make replacements. However, there is still the case of the utter soul-wrenching pain that comes with dismemberment. Regeneration isn't an easy process when you're under such a large amount of pain and stress, and it is a somewhat slow process given how what stamina Abraham has left is being put into regrowing a limb whilst under agony - there needs to be stone around that he can take into his body and replace the limb, otherwise, he needs the limb itself. What'll be left is very obvious scarring (such as the scar on his thumb) that shows this, but the body part is otherwise fully functional. However, he will still experience aches and phantom pains for a while after the regeneration and it generates trauma on the body. It is an ability that took a great amount of time to get working properly, and it takes a great deal of body memory, as well as contorting his limbs into different shapes. So these are not abilities he did little work to earn. He practiced extensively with his power to fully understand the ins and outs of this ability.
Weaknesses/Limitations/Drawbacks: Let's be real here: Abraham is a physical juggernaut locked down tighter than a nun's chastity belt. If your aim is to dominate him via fisticuffs, you're gonna get wrecked. Though while his defense is awe-inspiring and his power terrifying, he operates rather simply. In a fight, he generally runs off of instinct and his training, and krav maga was made for street fighting. In more serious fights, he gets a form of tunnel vision that, while bad news for his target, makes him narrow-sighted and easy to predict. A clever opponent may outsmart him in a fight. Or perhaps your power is psychic in nature. In fights, his mind is a flurry. If a power allows someone to mess with his mind, he'll go nuts or shut down. He has very little defenses against mental attacks beyond his own conviction and - should he fall into it - being blinded by the seething rage that fuels him. It's a berserker mode that puts him in one train of thought, and while useful against mental attacks, everything around him is going to be messed way the hell up and he is going to feel like shit when he gets out of it.
His powers do have limits and drawbacks. Whilst in stone form, Abraham's control over the stone around him is less refined. It becomes immensely more difficult for him to create large, dramatic structures and spires. While being in stone form does help him generate more power in the smaller environmental changes he can produce, his range and the size of his manipulate is on a smaller scale. Large-scale manipulation requires him to be in his more vulnerable and fleshy state. In this stone form, he is also restricted to contact. In order to bend the rocks and earth around him, he must remain on the ground and keeping himself firmly on the ground, Stone embodiment is much slower than his standard body, and his speed is cut down by at least half. So to be more efficient at fighting in a fast-paced match, he has to combine his regular body and stone embodiment, leaving him vulnerable in some areas to make up for speed so he can properly defend himself. His stone body, while incredibly durable, doesn't flex. Not like metal or flesh does, and that is why rock, under enough pressure at the right angle, can break easier than metal. However, his body is still dense and solid and would take tremendous force with the right material to actually break him.
Or perhaps this isn't a fight we are talking about. Maybe it's social interaction, or maybe a diplomatic mission. While charismatic in the sense he can play a fun guy very well and get people to like them, he isn't nice. As such, he doesn't like leading people. He is a piss poor leader because he doesn't really like people a whole lot. Maybe individual people, but as a group, Abe just doesn't like people. So he's a poor leader. And maybe if you catch him in a mood, he's poor at making friends. Or perhaps he's just judging you by the shoes you wear. Either way, he makes enemies easily, and has the audacity to not even consider them worthy of calling them an enemy. He's extremely arrogant that way. He'll blow a diplomatic mission if he feels he's been slighted and he isn't much of a tactician. He just has two gears - stop and go. That said, he can play the charm just right if he has the proper incentive. Just cross your fingers that he doesn't get offended. His brand of "justice" is a very controversial one, and while he can identify the difference in moral right and wrongs, his punishment is usually severe. Abraham sees it as justified.
Other: The goal of Abraham is to present a challenge or opposing force, one in which other characters can rebel against and form relationships with other through a mutual enemy. While Abraham is capable of becoming friends with other characters should the player play their cards right, or if we happen to work something out that'd make an interesting plot device, Abe isn't meant to be a likable or easily-trumped character by any means. So I offend anyone while writing him, that's great. I'll be thoroughly satisfied in knowing Abraham is an asshole.
All yours, Cap'n.
Kinetic energy is motion. Lightning has electrons, neutrons, ions, and light comes from protons - it's actual energy. If I twirl a light bulb on a string, it ain't kinetic energy. It's a god damn light bulb on a string.
You're using the association fallacy.
You're using the association fallacy.
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