Post by Micah Key on Jan 1, 2020 0:37:18 GMT -8
Basic Information
Name: Micah Key
Nickname(s):
Age: 17
Height: 5'11
Weight: 174 lbs
Blood Type: B+
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Eye Color: Gray-Blue
Hair: Very Dark Brown
Pass Time Information
Hobbies: Learning anything he thinks he could use, fighting, pushing his body's limits, resting in high places.
Talents: Reading body language, inhuman sense of smell, brawling, grappling, tactics, pattern analysis, stealth, lock-picking, pick-pocketing, knife-play, misrepresenting his character.
Favorite things: Freedom, pleasant sensations, the rush of battle, enjoying action alongside fun people (a fantastical concept.)
Miscellaneous:
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Mental Information
Personality: Chaotic Neutral
A man of action, who's lived life stifling his instincts in order to survive. Thinks and acts quickly, almost constantly waiting for others who seem ridiculously slow. Will do whatever is necessary and effective to complete his objectives, using any resource available. Looks out for himself first and foremost, but grows more reckless as he gets excited. Attempts to lay low and conserve energy while searching for opportunities to go all out. Prefers to avoid conflicts until he sees an opportunity to pounce on. Finds it unnatural to back off after engaging, will fight until the battle is won, (if he wasn't going to fight, he wouldn't have started.)
Quickly understands people and their actions leaving him bored the vast majority of the time, hoping for something actually interesting or amusing to occur. Remains disinterested and unfocused in almost any situation where people are talking or waiting around rather than taking action. Considers all new information, though often seeming dismissive of other's ideas. Irreverent towards people's beliefs that have no evidence demonstrating them. Dislikes people enforcing nonsensical things onto others. Dislikes idiots who get in his way. Dislikes most people in general, after quickly noticing their faults.
Appreciates perceptive people and those who appreciate his abilities, opening up a more friendly side to such people. Will become far more focused on humor and the amusing aspects of the situation with people who seem to see the world as he does. Is willing to take on insurmountable odds, then focusing on how to achieve victory rather than the likelihood of defeat.
Mentality: Slightly Maniacal
Ideal: "I'll take on all of you useless trash."
Belief: "Whatever works."
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Physical Information
Build: Lean, somewhat scrawny
Defining Marks: Slightly visible scar, on his right side, coming down from above his hairline to halfway down his forehead. Origin not obvious
A scar on his right elbow, looking like two small, parallel lines. Obvious as a knife wound to those with experience seeing them.
A scar on his right knee, looking like a blood splotch. Obvious as blunt trauma and internal bleeding that was never treated to those with experience seeing them
Description:
Upon glance, a relatively scrawny and weak looking Caucasian lad with a mess of wild hair.
Dark, narrow eyes, always looking sleep-deprived. Often avoiding eye-contact. If actually making eye-contact, has a comparatively startling, focused gaze.
Most often sporting a look of complete disinterest, only to grin wickedly the moment he finds something interesting.
Often wearing baggy, comfortable clothes, making him look smaller than he is, hiding what little physique he has. Almost always seen wearing a hooded jacket. If seen under his normally obscuring wardrobe, has broad shoulders on a lean, muscular body that seems to have oddly specific muscle concentration, with higher proportional muscle in the legs, forearms, and shoulders. Has almost no body fat, as if not getting enough to eat.
History Information
History:
He grew up in a world where it's kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. The Animal Kingdom. Vindicta's known for being a rough-and-tumble place, and that's just on the borders. In the backlines, abandoned structures are home to those not wanted, scrappers and thugs, scavengers and cold-blooded killers. All animals, looking for their next meal. Where everyone looks out for themselves or their pack, and no one's above vile acts of savagery.
He'd fought when he had to, he'd learned the way to kill. He had friends, he lost friends. He saw how things worked. Then he learned the way to live: Don't have anything to do with anyone, don't get attached to anything, don't be in the action, don't be near the action. They won't kill you if you're not in their way. They won't kill you if they don't see you. They won't want to if they don't see you as a threat. Fighting eventually gets you killed, no one lasts forever. He avoided fighting. He made sure he was not a threat. He didn't get in the way.
He did nothing.
Nothing but train.
Nothing but train.
Trained his body, his reflexes, his instincts. Trained for the inevitable. He knew he couldn't always lay low, even as he got better at it. He knew he needed power.
So he trained, trained out every weakness, forged out every vulnerability. Or, so he thought. For, who would go so far out of their way to attack someone so detached? Who would bother with someone who had nothing to do with them? Someone who wasn't in their world? He thought himself a phantom, immaterial. Someone with no connections to their reality.
He was wrong. He had one.
He kept his distance from the animals in the concrete jungle. Kept to himself, kept to the shadows, kept away from their world. All until he got back.
Until he returned home.
Home, where it wasn't kill or be killed, it wasn't eat or be eaten. Where he could be alive. He'd play with his sister, laugh with his parents, and finally be himself.
He who wasn't a reserved, calculating recluse. He who got excited playing games with people close to him. He who joked and made a fool of himself. Not a phantom.
Not an outsider.
Just a kid.
Just a kid.
A kid with bonds, connections to people. Not the perfect, untouchable being he idealized. A kid with a weakness. A weakness he couldn't train away.
He wished they didn't act so overt, seemingly blind to the dangers of being seen. It took all he had to control himself, he couldn't control his family.
He couldn't control them either.
They came just after it got dark, but they didn't try to hide. They wanted to announce their presence. They wanted his family to know who had come to destroy them,
but he didn't know.
He didn't know who they were, he thought them weak for being stupid enough to knock on the front door. He thought it would be an easy encounter to avoid.
He could just lay low, not let any sign of human presence escape, allow them to believe no one was there.
He could, but his family didn't.
His disbelief at the stupidity left him momentarily paralyzed. They talked, the intruders moved forward, it was an obvious tactical play. They moved to an advantageous position, they kept talking while getting ready to attack. He watched the pieces move, as they acted out a simple encounter he'd seen many times.
Just move. Just get out.
His blood boiled.
As the climax of the encounter approached, he saw it in slow-motion.
His heart raced.
As one of them reached to his weapon, his eyes widened and scanned the enemies in a moment. Four of them.
He knew how to solve this.
They moved forward, their expressions changed, but he already saw it coming.
His blood boiled.
As the climax of the encounter approached, he saw it in slow-motion.
His heart raced.
As one of them reached to his weapon, his eyes widened and scanned the enemies in a moment. Four of them.
He knew how to solve this.
They moved forward, their expressions changed, but he already saw it coming.
This is what he trained for.
He lunged forward, low to the ground, faster than their eyes could follow. He ripped the weapon out of the point man's hand and throttled him, as the others in the gang finally turned their attention towards him. He looked for the nearest threat. He saw the second one try to move. He moved first. Slamming the ringleader's head into the ground, he lunged upward for the next man,
And ran into a brick wall.
One of them, the one in the back, had blocked his advance. The man then threw him with a simple back-fist, knocking the wind out of him.
I'm not gonna be able to fight that.
Scanning the situation, he saw one still reeling, one standing strong, the others were startled, and his family had moved closer? why?
He tried to move before they attacked, and fell to his knees, still struggling to breathe. He watched it all happen, he saw everything coming. He watched his father bludgeoned, while he desperately attempted to regain his breath. He watched one of them take hold of his mother, while he commanded his body to move.
He watched his sister run up to them, as he took one step off the ground.
He watched the gun come up.
He lost his mind.
Soaked to the core, he shook himself awake. He had traveled through the rain without stopping. Through the "civilized" border towns of Vindicta. Past radios playing the story. It wasn't the top story, but he'd heard it enough. The story of the boy who massacred seven people, including an important figure's son and his own family. They never would have cared if it was just his family that died. No one would have noticed. Nobody bothered to notice him after all. Getting out of Vindicta was easy, nobody saw the kid in the rain, crossing over into enemy territory. Or, if they did, nobody cared. He made it to Cabal territory, some tougher security, but many more shadows to hide behind. He moved within the crowds in a frightening new world. Too many sights and sounds, too many people close together, and yet they didn't mind. There were far more military-types around than he liked. People live like this? He did his best to blend in. Followed near people who looked more like him, maybe around his age. They were all going into a building he'd only heard about, a train station. He stuck behind the people he was following, head down, in the shadows of the giant machines.
"All aboard for Cabal Academy." They filed in, past a man checking them off a list. Guards stood at every side. He narrowed his eyes as he looked around. Noticing a commotion behind him. A boy headed to the line was grappled to the ground and restrained with implements he'd never seen before. They called the kid by name, evidently official military business. The guards near the train doors had moved toward the confrontation, leaving their stations. He turned back to the line, pulling his hood further down his face. He was next. Hesitating, he stared back at the one being carted off, before finally stepping forward. He glanced down at the list of names, scanning them quickly. A tired smile came over his face as he looked up to the man and said,
"Micah Key."
Motioned on board, he took the first step of his new life.
Motioned on board, he took the first step of his new life.
Stats
Starting Stats:
Attack: 5
Defense: 10
Speed: 15
Perception: 15
Energy: 5
Current Stats:
Attack: 5 / 20
Defense: 10 /20
Speed: 15 / 20
Perception: 15 / 20
Energy: 5 / 20
Stored EXP: 0
Attack: 5
Defense: 10
Speed: 15
Perception: 15
Energy: 5
Current Stats:
Attack: 5 / 20
Defense: 10 /20
Speed: 15 / 20
Perception: 15 / 20
Energy: 5 / 20
Stored EXP: 0
Items
Head: N/A
Hands: N/A
Legs: N/A
Feet: N/A
Misc: N/A
Misc: N/A
Special: N/A
Hands: N/A
Legs: N/A
Feet: N/A
Misc: N/A
Misc: N/A
Special: N/A
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Abilities
Ability Name: Killer Instinct - In the moment between life and death, the shackles of humanity fall away, and all you have left is animal instinct.
Shedding the convoluted trappings of the human mind, his physical senses are enhanced beyond what most consider human limits. Allowing him to perceive the world around him to an extremely detailed degree. Driven by instinct, he thinks and moves faster, generating more power with distinctly focused and ferocious strength.
Strengths: Makes him difficult for most to predict and extremely deadly to those in close proximity. Focusing entirely on what's in front of him, can notice slight details while observing everything around him at once. Pounces on openings with unrestrained speed and power.
Weaknesses: Human cognizance abandoned, all instances of higher-thought are ignored. Overarching plans, diplomatic allegiances, and civilized boundaries are rendered moot. Only relying on instinct to tell friend from foe. Will not stop or rest, only act, wearing extremely on his stamina.
Abandoning the technical rituals required to operate human weapons, he will either use them as simple blunt objects, or forsake them in favor of using his body, leaving him almost entirely with hand-to-hand physical attacks. Likely vulnerable to swift attacks executed from outside his perception range.
With his mind solely focused on physical perception and reaction, he can be vulnerable to well thought out plans based on his animal-like behavior, though enemies should be wary underestimating a beast.
Zero Ability: Go for the Throat - Perceiving an opportunity, he moves instantly, propelling all of his momentum into a single, focused strike. Simultaneously gaining 100% of his Speed to Attack and vice-versa as he goes for the kill.
(5 Attack 15 Speed --> 20 Attack 20 Speed)