It's like the splinter in your finger that you can't touch. Like skin that is diseased and ugly and you want to rip it off your body. The feeling that something wrong is going on, but everyone acts as if it's all ok. When I wake up in the morning i don't think about saving a life, stopping a crime, upholding justice. Something is pushing me to do it. Something is trying to make me repent a sin that i commited, but what was it? If I could only remember. It hurts my head to remember. My mind a patchwork of flashes that slowly return to me. If only i could just figure out what the problem is. For now though I will save the lives, stopp the crimes and uphold justice. No need for a name, just call me Mr. Hero.
Personality: Lost. Confused. Scared. I cry sometimes. When i pick up my guns they feel like heavy stones, filled with my frustration. My mood changes, from happy to sad to angry. I don't feel right sometimes. I just don't know how to explain how i feel. My ambition grows day by day but I want it to stop. I want everything to stop.
| Weak BELOW normal human strength - |
can bench press 50 pounds (maybe).
|Superior This fighter can dodge, weave and move |
with the grace of an Olympic gymnast.
|Superior Hardy. |
Takes punishment like a heavyweight fighter or wrester.
|Standard Normal human mental resources.|
It seems so cliche. A dank dark alley i sit in when my brain begins to feel warm. I sit and sit and sit until it hits me. Like a white flash across my eyes. I feel and see something for a brief second. A crime, a criminal i see it in my brain and lose it. But my body knows where to go. I force myself to try to sense it again but I can't. It's as if my body and my unconcious are working against me. But i run still. The sensation will always lead me to my ambition.
I get there. It could be many things. Teenagers over a crying girl, an armed robbery with people running away from the scene, a simple shop lifting. Something forces me to go to the evil. It draws me like a black hole. The thrill of of the confortation. The taste of justice, it tastes like crap, a lingering tingle in my mouth that I can't get enough of. I hope I can find out why I can't help myself.
The gun in my right hand is called "Truth." The name popped out of my mind when i saw it drag out the guilt of a man who killed his family. I tracked him down to a train yard and pulled the trigger, the gruesome act replayed around us as the bullet hit him sqaure in the chest. He curled up in the fetal position afterwards, demanding for forgiveness from me. I simply stood there, unfazed at the occurence. Sometimes I think of putting Truth to my own head but I don't know what it would do to me.
- Power: Illusion Creation
- Kit Power Link: Arcane Lore
- Auto-Hit This mental attack hits the target automatically, but may or may not effect them.
The gun in my left hand, It's name is "Justice." The name just popped in my head one day but I remember when I first used it. It was a pickpocket in a mall that i cornered in the back hallways of the shipping area. he saw me pull out the gun and put his hands up in mercy when i pulled the trigger. The gun unleashed a fire ball, which burned and charred his hands. It seems the gun enjoys to deal out punishment against the wicked, deciding to destroy the criminal based on his or her crime. Sometimes I wonder what it would do to me.
- Power: Spellcraft
- Kit Power Link: Arcane Lore
- Area Effect This attack causes damage in a large area.
- Ranged Attack Attack usable at a distance (only).
The sensations grow stronger. Like forest fires in my head. The pick and burn my brain. I see things, new things. As I take down each criminal I see a single frame from a movie of the answer. It goes by slowly. In my sleep it flashes by like a flip book, each new image slowly going by as I scream and wake up. I'm too close to give up. I'll never give up. Now when I can finally figure out what is wrong with me.