Post by Bulletproof Venom on Oct 20, 2010 13:39:25 GMT -5
(I know it's not brilliant. I'll get someone to take a good photo soon. You get the idea though.)~*Full Name: Matthias Morelocke
~*Alias: Bulletproof Venom
~*Age: 16
~*Human Status:Rogue turned Killjoy
~*Gender: Male
~*Weapons of Choice: Shortblade and yellow Raygun (nicknamed: Ionic breeze)
~*History: He never was, shall we say, the most stable, of people. He hated life, he hated his family, but most of all, he hated himself. He cut himself, when he wasn't out killing animals that is. He was scarily proficient with a knife for his age. He'd always put up with his parents, even though they worked for BLI (Which he hated SO much) but that one year, the day of his 16th birthday, he just flipped. He butchered his parents. Now, of course, as you'd expect, this messed him up beyond believe. Before too long he developed DID. He never thought him 'the murderer' and him 'the child' were one and the same.
He stayed in his house for as long as he could, but one day, the Dracs came knocking for his parents. He got behind the door and readied his blade. The door swung open, and two Dracs walked in, and looked around, and that was as far as they got. Before they knew what hit them, he slit both their throats with one swing of his blade.
He ran. He never stopped. He killed anyone who got in his way. For the next year, he lived as best he could, on what he could catch and kill. He didn't give a shit if it was cooked or not. Over the year, he learnt to make various harmful substances, the best of which came from the sludge like soil, about 10 feet under battery city. Instant paralysis if it entered the bloodstream. Fucking useful!
Soon, his 16th Birthday was upon him, and he attempted to return to his home. He approached the ruin of what was once his home, and saw, inside had all been ransacked, except for one small box, wrapped up. He walked up, both curious and cautious, and looked at the tag.
"Heads up Venom. Use it well. - D"
He opened it, and found a yellow ray gun inside, he lifted it up, when suddenly a [glow=red,2,300]boom[/glow] came from behind.
He woke up, lying on that same table, in a haze.
"Hehe. You must be fuckin' bulletproof man. Not many people should survive that. Not as well off as you did anyway."
"w.... who are you?"
"A friend. I'm a killjoy. Come with us, we've heard about you. We could do with someone like you."
And that's how it all started for him, his adventures with the Killjoys.
But that was always second for him. With his trusty knife, and his raygun, he searched for the truth of who this '-D' was. That was what kept him living. He kept his scars from when he was younger, and the scar from the laser path down his side. But he didn't mind. The scars helped him remember. Remember what you might ask? Well 1, self harm is always an option, and 2, ray guns fucking hurt! Yeah yeah, okay, it's not a good lesson to learn, but that's what he took from it. Take it as you will.
~*Abilities: He has a rather high pain threshold from the years of harm, and is becoming proficient in the use of his raygun.
The original was twice as long, but I accidentally closed the window and lost it all 
