Post by Arthur Woodson on Jan 31, 2020 17:36:52 GMT -8
Basic Information
Name:Arthur Woodson
Nickname(s):The Watcher
Age: 23
Height:5'11
Weight:175
Blood Type:AB+
Gender:Male
Sexuality:Heterosexual
Eye Color: Brown
Hair:Black
Mental Information
Personality:Arthur isn't much of a talker, always preferring to keep his thoughts and feelings close to the chest. He keeps to himself, content to hide behind a mask, both in the literal and figurative sense. Trust is something that he hoards, knowing full well that trust foolishly given only earns you an early grave. He has a problem trusting even allies to get their jobs done and fully expects everyone to fail at everything. If he doesn't have a direct hand in it, he doesn't have much faith to spare.
Order is something that he yearns for, and he doesn't really care about how that order is obtained. Freedom is secondary to security. History has shown that when Humanity is given freedom to act in the manner it's whims pull it toward then Humanity will destroy itself. Though in this case they couldn't even manage that.Once more proving how incompetent most people were. Bitter humor like that is just about the only type that he takes comfort in anymore.
Physical Information
History Information
History: There was no single event that he can point to in order to discover what lead him to this exact moment. Really his whole life has been a series of shitty choices and shittier situation. His Mom died when he was young, his Dad died when he was younger. He didn't have any siblings to look after him, and if he had extended family he'd never met them.The war was already in full force before he was born, and there were plenty of war orphans like him everywhere. It was nothing special, and the reality was that people were numb to the suffering of people like him. You had to be in order to survive. He was no different, suffering was a part of life and it was always better to see someone else suffer than be the one suffering.
It was evident that life was a zero sum game to him, if he had food to fill his belly then it meant someone else wouldn't. There wasn't enough to go around and might made right more often than not. Which was all well and good until you ran into someone with the ability to shoot fire from their fists, or manipulate shadows into killer monsters. Then it was about cunning, knowing your enemies and how to pick your battles. It was better to go hungry one night than not see another one.
It was only recently that he was given a way to take the advantages that had been given to others by the fickle hand of fate and turn them into his own advantage. With his mask he can have a taste of what so many others took for granted, and all it cost was a pledge to help create the order that he craved so much. A chance to rise above his station and to help shape the world in his own image. How could he refuse?