| Name: |
No Birth Name
| Alias: |
The Sloth/Sloth
| Age: |
Physically mid-20s, Actually 3
| Appearance: |
Sloth is a strange, somewhat intimidating creature that exists as a testament to the horrid experiments that go on when lawlessness reigns. His body is covered in thick fur, beneath which there are many scars from "tests" and torture.
| Abilities/Skills: |
Sloth is a meta, with enhanced strength and dexterity. He has the capability to maneuver his feet as he does his hands, and is very skilled in close combat, using a very barbaric form of wrestling.
| Backstory: |
Sloth was "born" in a dark, secluded lab in the Presidium. One of many experiments of the mad Doctor Michael Grant, he was intended to be part of a mutant human-animal hybrid army with which Grant would stake his claim. Perhaps unfortunately, Lex Luthor caught wind of Grant's plan, and his punishment was swift and brutal: Grant was killed violently, and most of the experiments were destroyed. Sloth, however, being infantile at the time, did manage to escape.
From there, Sloth spent most of his very short life wandering the land, constantly in fear of being killed on a whim. For a short while, Sloth found an almost happiness in the jungles of the Gorilla Coast, where he fit in for the most part, and was able to survive on his own. Unfortunately, this was not to last, as he was found and chased out under threat of death, forced to wander once more.
Eventually, Sloth made it to the border of the former country of Mexico. Almost immediately, he was captured and forced into the camps of Pandemonium, too simple to understand what was happening to him anymore. Now he remains there, waiting either to escape, or to die.
| Sample Post: |
A loud moan came from the dark, windowless cell. By now, most of the guards had learned to ignore it. A few cruel bastards still took the chance to go in...
Nightshift was new to the job, but he was already making a name for himself. Cruel, strong, and skilled with a gun? Yes, even the big man himself could see that Nightshift was upper management material, which is why he was so infuriated that he had been assigned to guard duty in this middle of nowhere hellhole. Worse, that fucking beast in Cell-5 wouldn't stop SCREECHING... A smile crept over his face. He was going to enjoy this.
Opening the cell quickly, Nightshift walked in to see the disgusting sloth-creature curled up on the floor, still wailing that horrible wail. Shutting that dumb animal up would be easier than... he... thought? The wailing stopped. Had it heard him? Maybe it was just fear. Nightshift did think of himself as a very scary guy... He smirked some more, and turned around to leave the cell, his blood lust delayed for another day... When he heard the last wail he'd ever hear.
---
Sloth was glad they weren't putting him back in the cell, but he was confused. "Barbaric"? "Savage"? The words the strange suited men were using to talk about him were big and confusing. Was it about that mean guard-man he had put to sleep? The one with all the red juice inside? Sloth was frightened. He had never hurt one of the mean guard-men before, so maybe they would go easy on him?
Deep inside, he knew they wouldn't.
| Notes: |
I'm a real fan of Faygo Peach.