Place of Birth: officially unknown, but if you really want to know, Fairbanks, Alaska
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: High school student/backyard scientist
Power: He, by some unknown force has been given a domain over entropy, chaos, destruction. The power allows him to degrade anything that comes into contact with him into a lower state, for example, metals will wither away and oxidize, stones will crumble and become sand, and people will turn to ash.
Cost of powers use: life force, can be of any creature, but humans give the highest yield. In order to gain the power of one's life source he needs to kill that particular organism.
Appearance: 5’8, ~140 lbs, lean but solid, Caucasian, short dirty blonde/brown hair, amber eyes, mark of dragon devouring self on the back of left hand. On top of all this he does not have a southern accent. In terms of attire he usually wears skate shoes, dark blue jeans a hoody and is usually seen wandering the busy streets of downtown Atlanta during the day with his earbuds in.
marking on left hand
Skills: He grew up in the Alaskan wilderness for most of his life, only entering the city to either steal money or to immerse himself in the library’s books. Therefore he has attained many useful survival skills which he plans to use on his new journey. In terms of combat skills he is a skilled unskilled fighter which means that he is a really good street fighter, very agile, and is also skilled at archery. In terms of knowledge, he has a vast quantity of scientific and mathematical knowledge in his brain which he uses to basically get what he wants. If he wants something but can’t acquire
Personality: On the outside he appears apathetic and disinterested, but in reality when pushed to he can be quite passionate and fiery. He is however normally quite cold and when he decides to talk can be quite snarky and critical, but all in all he's a good kid. He fears loss and abandonment more than anything and would do whatever it takes to help his friends and family. He is a pragmatist who tries to live logically and question everything that he is told. This causes some people to see him as rebellious. He doesn't like to lie or manipulate people, but he is the type of person to do so if his or one of his loved one's lives were on the line. Other then that he can be irritated at times and is most easily irritated by pushy people. In terms of how he treats his friends, he is much more at ease around them and enjoys clowning around with them.
History: He didn’t have the luxury of a birth name or parents. He was a homeless street urchin, living with other homeless street urchins in the Alaskan wilderness near the town of Fairbanks. He was first taken in by a teenager who found an abandoned infant on the cold city streets. To prevent him from dying he took him into the village, where he was raised. When he was raised there he was taught survival skills by the other urchins. He at first learned to create things as an artisan, and was good at it too because he would frequently go to the library to read books on various subjects and disciplines. When he got older he was taught to use a bow for hunting and to fight in order to protect the village, though he did still act as a top artisan for the village. He learned all sorts of things, physics, history, literature, chemistry, math technology, even programming though he could only practice on the library computers, he saw it all as being fun and interesting. His life in this village was tough, but there he and his friends built nearly unbreakable bonds with one another. Bad things were not uncommon though. People going missing wasn’t uncommon, but most would turn up dead, frozen to death, mauled by a bear, or even murdered. When something like this happened, the village would become quiet, and still, grief and regret polluting the air, especially around him, he didn’t want to let down those he cared about, and especially not let them die. Most of the times, unfortunately nothing could’ve done anyways. Sometimes, someone would contract a grave illness and be sent to the hospital. There they would usually be never seen again, but would most likely not have died, just sent to some orphanage somewhere, and in those cases it would be for the better. One day it all came to an end though, it had to have eventually. Nobody knew who did it, but somebody, a passerby horrified by the living conditions, somebody who grew older and decided to leave and live amongst society realizing that it would be better for the children, which it probably would have, told child protective services about the village. Shortly after, they came and made the urchins wards of the state, they were separated and sent to orphanages, the vast majority never saw one another again. When he first arrived at the orphanage he talked to people occasionally, but nobody there really understood him or his love for knowledge like his friends at the village, so for the most part, he did what he always did. He went to the library and buried himself in books, to numb the not the pain of loss and discomfort like he used to, but to this time numb the pain of loneliness. His intelligence increased, and by the time he was fourteen, he was as smart as a college undergrad in most areas. He focused mostly on science, tech and math, seeing them all as being more interesting then the humanities, though he did have a lot of interest in history as well, it could not match his love for the sciences. He would also frequently roam the streets, getting into the occasional fight and sneaking into lectures at the local college.
By chance one day he met a prestigious and rich scientist and entrepreneur, Dr. Robert Miller, who was attending a lecture regarding the ethics concerning some fields of biotechnology. They sat next to each other during the lecture and afterwards the boy struck up a conversation. Though the conversation was not about anything super crazy or theoretical, the scientist was was impressed that somebody of his age about fourteen at the time would know college level chemistry. The scientist asked the boy about his story and how he got so smart at such a young age. They boy told him everything and though at first Dr. Miller didn't believe it, after doing some of his own research, he realized that what the boy said was true. He and his wife were trying to conceive for many years, but were never able to and since Dr. Miller felt as if he had a connection with the child and after deliberating with his wife, he decided to adopt him. The boy happily obliged and in a few days was on a flight to Georgia.
Leila, his new mother was wonderful and his father, Robert was a thoughtful man, so for the first year life was excellent. It was there where he gained the name Lazarus. It was there where he lived in a large house in Buckhead and attended his first year at a public high school. It was there where he made many friends and was admired for his intellect. These short few months were some of the best times he ever had. Nothing good lasts however. In the middle of his freshman year of high school his mother died in a fatal car crash. Both he and his father were devastated and a change in both of their emotional states were visible. Dr. Miller became more reclusive and detached from the world, he sold his business and decided to retire early. He spent most of his time locked in his room, he had become severely depressed. Lazarus on the other hand coped in a different way. He did not go gentle into that good night. Though he acted out quite often immediately after the accident, once again constantly skipping school most of the time and pursuing his own passions in order to numb the pain. He remembered how he cursed the world when somebody who he cared about was taken from him. He was full of rage and sorrow and decided to get stronger, so he trained, he got into more fights, started trespassing in order to conduct urban exploration and used his knowledge in computers to hack things and screw with people for fun. Things have calmed down a lot by the time that incident had occurred. His foster father rebounded from his depression and Lazarus stopped being edgy. They formed a strong bond between father and son as well as from scientist to scientist. At this point despite being only seventeen, his father wanted to send Lazarus to college, he was at this point a certifiable genius, minus the delinquent activity and rebellious attitude, but then again nobody’s perfect. Lazarus wasn’t all for it though, he was flattered by the fact that a lot of the top colleges wanted to see him among their ranks, but he wanted to forge his own path rather than have it laid out for him. He even set up a workshop on his father’s estate, where he would tinker all night long, whether it be the engine to a car or rocket, a new synthesized chemical agent or a computer that he would be putting together, it seemed as if he always had something new. At this point he pretty much dropped out of high school though, but it didn’t affect him much, he didn’t think he made any actual friends there, he saw them as acquaintances. When the incident occurred it didn’t actually affect him that much. All the people who turned away from him didn’t really matter to him and all of the colleges that previously wanted him so desperately to join them now turned him away. His father wasn’t a religious person at all, and neither was Lazarus, so they both saw the powers that Lazarus gained as neither a gift nor a curse, just an event which occurred that should be investigated. The fact that Dr. Miller was in league was with Lazarus saw him being treated like one of the unwanted as well. Lazarus did not want to be a burden to his foster father, so he finally decided to run off and start to mold his path to glory, but still stay in touch with his father though, not wanting to abandon he who showed him the light.
It is sometime in the morning in the fifth district of Match City. A young computer technician watches apathetically from a bus-stop as an overweight, middle-aged man, is pulled out of a nightclub, The Jumping Spider, and put on a stretcher. The nine to fivers that surround him do the same and what they have been waiting for finally arrives, the bus, they lumber onto it, slow and machine like, just as they did the day before, and the day before, etc. After thirty minutes of sitting limply on that bus seat, he reached his stop, a run-down apartment building, close to the second district. He walked, now with haste, up a few flights of stairs, until he reached the fifth floor, now facing a plain wooden door labelled 5c, he quickly yet quietly entered the apartment. He toiled there for a few hours, doing his job, checking up on his equipment, and retrieving his findings.
The sun shone bright, midday in the fourth district, an athlete was on the run. His strides were long yet ferociously quick. His body was featherlike in its movements, effortless. He ran all around the serpentine roads of suburbia until he was sweating profusely and his vision began to go dark. He could have been running like this for a plethora of reasons. College athlete wanting to bring his A game, a professional athlete seeking to join the next Olympics, a soldier getting in peak condition before going on a tour, or just a guy who is obsessed with staying healthy. Nonetheless, after an hour of basically sprinting, he was spent, exhausted. At one part of the fourth district there were a few restaurants, friendly family run places. Whenever he went to this place to run, he would visit a different restaurant, this time a seafood restaurant where he jubilantly, to nobody’s surprise, emptied its supply of crab.
The afternoon in the third district, a sight to see. Each mansion was as glorious as the next, but as anyplace, these extravagant homes soon became familiar, and boring. A young businessman, slightly disheveled dirty blonde hair blowing in the wind, donning aviators and a suit, rang a doorbell at the front gate of one of the larger mansions. He held a white check, in his left hand, and stared at the unwavering, unblinking camera which appraised him as he stood there with slight impatience. Then, like magic, the gate opened. After a long walk down the driveway to the brilliantly crafted home, he went inside, to speak to an acquaintance. After about fifteen minutes, he left the mansion made of stone and exotic woods with a grin on his face. He walked a few blocks down where he entered another, smaller mansion, his own, in there he got ready for his next task.
It was later in the afternoon, around six o’clock when the doors of a warehouse shut and a young scientist walked out of it. Located in a relatively abandoned part of the second district, the low hum of working machinery was audible from the outside for the short moments the door was open for. He was tired from a long day’s work and sought a place to relax. The college aged kid wandered around, attracting attention from thugs, who knew better, due to the presence of Avia, they didn’t bother him. He walked around the second district, marveling at what this group known as Avia has done to it. When he first arrived in the city, this area was in shambles, and now, its leagues better. “Their methods are less than subtle though” he smirked as he thought this. His walk took a few hours until he finally reached his peaceful destination.
A college aged kid was hanging out in the first district just night began to fall. He was propped up on a limb in some tree, earbuds in, attempting to watch the sunset obscured by tall buildings. He was disappointed to find out that this was not possible. He sighed and leaned his head back, looking like a loafer with his casual attire and slouched posture. He closed his eyes “what a day, what a day... data collection and analysis, technology, my training, sciences and…….” Suddenly “mmhmmmhmhmmm mmhmhmhmmmm” he hummed as a new song began to play. He swung his dangling legs back and forth, opening his eyes and staring at the orange sky. “There’s still much to do” he thought to himself. He grasped his smartphone, unlocking it and opened its search engine, there he searched for articles for a short time until he found one titled, “Owner of Fifth District Night Club Dies at Young Age of Heart Attack” it was barely noticeable, but he smirked, knowing that like many times before, he outsmarted the system, and served it.
@KiwiBaer in all seriousness, I honestly don't know where to start my character's story, so many opportunities. I'll see if I can get a post up sometime tonight.