Mullet Fish's Characters

[Mullet Fish]

Okay, I'll post all of my character profiles under this thread. I advise the other members to do the same, for faster reference.

Derek

Age: Appears 16
Powers: Unnaturally apt with weapons, especially blades; unnatural agility
Appearance: Tallish. Wears a shoulder plate on the shoulder of the glove-bearing arm. Also has a loose breast-plate. Concealed by a black cloak. Has knives strapped to various places on his body with leather straps, some concealed, some visible. On his left hand he wears a chain mail glove, which serves as a shield. It’s made of a light, hard material that hinders his hand little. He can still hold knives in it.
Attitude: Relaxed, laid back sort of manner outside of battle. In battle he uses combinations of lightning quick blade strikes, and his quick reflexes make him hard to hit. Pain receptors are nulled considerably during battle, a reaction triggered by adrenaline.
His main weapon is a wickedly curved knife with a jagged edge near the point. It’s about a foot long, and he wears it strapped to his right calf. It’s concealed most of the time by his cloak, but he can whip it out in the blink of an eye.
History: After growing up in the suburbs of New York, Derek came to terms with his power. He won races with it, made teams with it. Derek was a widely accepted child with many friends. He had average grades and maintained a solid family life.
However, his luck ran dry in the matter of romance. After countless disastrous relationships madness began to take it’s toll. However, in a titanic inner struggle, Derek overcame his anger.
After graduating high school with several scholarship offers for athletic colleges, Derek prepared to live a full life. However, as he was walking around downtown New York he was attacked by a gang. Before he could control himself he slaughtered the lot of them. This incident forced him into hiding and destroyed his future. It also made him realize another of his powers: his aptness with weapons.
After forging a hideout, he collected knives. He purchased them online, under an assumed name. He found them, and in one case he forged one himself. This weapon became his favourite. Soon he had amassed a small armoury of knives and guns. He rarely used the guns, mostly revolvers, but he still had incredible skill in handling them.
After several years Derek moved to Europe. He stole a small plane, which he destroyed after arriving. Nobody made the connection, and the NYPD still hunted Derek furiously back in the Big Apple.

[Mullet Fish]

Frank

Age: Unknown
Powers: Dematerialisation
Appearance: Tall, pale, blond hair, blue eyes. Wears a button-up grey shirt, blue jeans and some generic white shoes. Nikes or something.
Attitude: Not sure yet.
Weapons: None.
History: Grew up as a standard, run of the mill rich kid. After a brief foray into politics, he joined the Black Crow Syndicate. He deals with the political aspects of their work, and the electrical wiring once in a while.

Okay, so he isn't very, er, developed yet. Mainly because I invented him several minutes ago.

[Mullet Fish]

I noticed my characters slowly sinking to the bottom of the board, so I guess I should add another one. Hm. Let's make one up on the spot.

Actually, I think I'll develop Frank some more.

[Mullet Fish]

Okay, time for a new character. I dunno, I've been wanting to blow stuff up lately, so I guess I'll make that a character. I think I had a Jack at one point, but whatever.

Edit: I'd forgotten about this guy. I think I'll tinker with him a little bit.

Jack

Age: 23
Description Wears a long jacket with bulging pockets. He doesn't have any eyebrows or facial hair (burned off). He has scars from burns and shrapnel on hands. Is missing two fingers on his left hand, which he lost while mixing a Solid-ox bomb. Limps slightly, presumably due to a shrapnel wound. Has only one eye. Blind eye covered by an eye patch. Is a smoker, dangerously enough, as he is usually carrying enough explosives to level a city block. What he lacks in explosives knowledge he makes up for with years of experience. He is laid back, but quick-witted. Will destroy a building on a whim, and is rarely caught. Does not value human life, and has no problem with killing people. Carries a revolver which he will not hesitate to use if things get hairy. Is slightly schizophrenic since a piece of debris struck him on the head during a demolition.

Intro: Jack wished the voices in his head would shut up long enough for him to finish wiring these explosives.
It was getting dark out. Had been for some time. Jake hated how autumn evenings seemed to drag on forever, balancing uneasily on the border between night and day for what seemed to be a surreal amount of time. Jake hated it because this was the time of day that the voices were the most insistent.
"Black to black, red to white, yellow to green," he mumbled to himself.
Black to red to white to yellow to orange purple red blue, the voices called in his head. His hands holding the wires froze and he shook his head.
"Black to black, red to white, yellow to..." he thought a moment. "Green."
He tried to work quickly, but the voices caught up in the end. They always did.
Yellow to white to black to green, they chanted. He shut his eyes until they receded.
"Red to white, yellow to green," he said, more loudly this time. His hands trembled almost imperceptibly. He repeated it over and over in his head, but it was soon replaced by the high, taunting chorus.
Jake sighed and let the wires hang from the brown block to which they were attached. This was not going according to plan. He was already ten minutes behind schedule, and the voices were getting worse as the evening progressed. He flipped a milk crate with a dejected kick and sat on it moodily. He looked around the alley in which he now sat. It was a typical, trash-littered alley, complete with a clothes line suspended between the two residential buildings. A single pair of underwear flapped in the wind like a strange parody of a national flag. He could hear the sound of children's laughter wafting down from an open window. He quickly smothered a bit of what was possibly emotion and turned back to his work, before his mind could wander. The voices were there, but now seemed hushed, and distant, like people speaking in low voices in an adjacent room.
As he plugged the last cable in a small green light clicked on. He gave a curt, satisfied nod and ambled lazily down the alley. He smiled as he looked ahead, spotting the little green LEDs at 20 foot intervals. As he rounded a corner he spotted more of them along another side of the building. This side faced a dirt parking lot, for which the alley evidently served as a driveway.
He dug through his large jacket's pockets until he produced a pack of cigarettes. He pulled on out and stuck it in his mouth. He dug through his pockets again, this time coming out with a Zippo, which he flicked open and lit with the same finger. He snapped it shut and drew deeply on the coffin nail, observing his handywork. He nodded once, turned and walked across the parking lot.
It was exactly 8:35 PM when the primary charges detonated.
The sound was deafening, and windows several blocks over were shattered. Jake sat in his small apartment many miles away and smiled as the building trembled just a bit. The cigarette he had lit up after setting the charges was now nothing more than a butt, which he flicked out an open window. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as the wail of sirens rose in the background. Another job well done.

(I have no idea what kind of an RP I can use him in, but he could be fun to use.)