Victor Vandal


Gender: Male

Kit: Super

Location: Germany


Alignment: Hero

Team: The Sentinels of Liberty and Justice


Strength: standard (rank 1)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: superior (rank 2)

Body: standard (rank 1)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )


Fame Points: 478

Personal Wins: 16

Personal Losses: 2

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0


Status: Active


The brisk stroke of the brush against the canvas splattered the green paint onto Victor’s cheek. He attacked the canvas with unbridled concentration. Every stroke meaningful, every color filled with emotion. He dropped the brush and stepped back from his masterpiece. A rainbow assortment of paint covered his dingy white shirt and hands.

“Finally,” He said with a heavy breath. He had finally mastered the art of, well, art.

As he stepped back to see his creation it was as if he stepped back into reality. Only then he realized his study, or what was left of it. Books, food, writing notes and clothes were thrown across the room in every which way. He also finally realized the smell; it was horrid. He buried his nose into his elbow as he coughed lightly and he took his final look at the canvas.

The sky was an azure blue with snow tipped mountains filling the horizon. The grey mountains towered over a large prairie, but then the picture’s mood swung drastically. The green pasture was filled with craters of mortar residue. A small hut barely stood among this chaos, and among this a man stood carrying a limping body.


Victor placed the last garbage bag into the can at the end of the long driveway. Wiping his hands against each other, he stepped back through the large gates that guarded his estate. The automated gates closed behind him as a golf cart pulled up to a screech in front of him.

“Herr Vandal!” A prudent old man yelled from the cart, waving his white gloved hands and beckoning Victor to join him. “I see you’ve found your way out of that infernal study of yours. “

“Ah, Ambros, how are you my friend? It’s been a while!” Victor yelled as he jumped into the seat beside the butler. He pulled off towards the mansion.

“It has been two years Victor! I trust you’ve created a whole gallery for your estate.”

“Two years! You’re joking? I suppose time isn’t important anymore, for someone in my position. But no, I finished one, perfect, piece of art.”

“But one? Bah, what they say is true. You are mad with time!”

“Nevertheless, it has been mastered. What would you say is next?”

“What is left Victor? You’ve been at this for 60 plus years!”

“Well, I never was much of a fighter Ambros.”



     Detective: standard (rank 1)


They arrived at the mansion doors and Ambros handed off the keys to the cart to one of the help with a smile.

“A fighter? I remember you already being quite an adequate wrestler. Or am I just that old?”

“No, your memory is fine, but there is simply so much more to learn of the martial arts. There’s bear wrestling, Karate, judo!” He said gesturing his arms into ridiculous stances.

Ambros sighed heavily as they ascended the stairs and he opened the front doors for Victor, “At this rate I won’t see you again for another decade. Let’s just say did and don’t, ya?”

“Well I’d still hardly feel like a master…” He paused as he stepped into the foyer and scanned the living room to the left. “Did someone move that couch?” He walked closer and inspected it as Ambros followed behind, puzzled.

“The couch? Oh, I believe so, after a maid made a spill. It was promptly cleaned of course.”

“Hmm…” He pushed into the couch with his hip until it was perfectly in place. “More like it. Now, Ambros, what were we saying?”

“I believe your next binge, my herr.”

“Oh, of course, martial arts.”


A Long Life

     Regeneration: superior (rank 2)


Victor strolled into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. As he rummaged through the fridge, scavenging for foods to state his undying hunger, Ambros entered. He cleared his throat, calling for Victor’s attention. Victor’s head bobbed up from behind the fridge door chewing a waffle as he poured syrup into his mouth.

“So what is the plan this time, Victor?” He said with a tiring sigh.

“Plan? Bah, it’s the same as always. I will study, study, study, and then boom. I am a Master.” He said with syrup dripping down his chin.

“I think you will soon learn that you cannot learn everything from a book my boy.”

“Are you suggesting I google it, Ambros? Who told you about google?”

He leapt back into the fridge and pulled out a pear. Reaching into a drawer, he donned a knife and began to slice off pieces into his mouth as he chuckled to himself. He chuckled so hard, he over cut the pear and the knife slipped, cutting into his pointer finger. He grimaced and brought the finger to his lips sucking out the blood for a second before pulling it out to find no mark of the cut.


Never Without a Plan

     Tactician: standard (rank 1)


“Serves you right.”

“Oh don’t be that way, Ambros.” He said pouting, but then he put on the façade of a smile as he gobbled up the last piece of the pear and began to walk past his beloved butler and friend.

Ambros watched him pass by but could no longer hold his tongue. He called out for him. “Wait.” He shuffled over to Victor as he waited at the door and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I cannot sit idle by, and allow you to continue to do this to yourself. Just because you can heal a few scrapes doesn’t mean you need to put your body through this bout. I know what you’re trying to do.” Victor looked away at this point.

“Drowning your mind in all this knowledge won’t make you forget her, nor will it make it any easier. Now, this will be your last binge under my watch. And I’ll make sure of it. I’m going to send you somewhere where I’m sure you’ll either learn what you desire, or get your kiester kicked everyday you don’t.”

“You’re sending me to learn from a master?”

“Something like that.”


Knowledge is Power

     Martial Arts: superior (rank 2)


Victor shook out his arms as he entered the circle. He and his opponent shook hands before they dropped into their stances and circled each other with choppy steps. Victor took note of every movement of his opponent. Calculating his own next move. He watched his opponent take a step back readying himself for a jab. Victor moved in, baiting the punch. He swung. Victor dodged and grabbed the arm pulling him into himself. He locked his head beside him and pushed his arm under his opponent’s and reached for his wallet, all while pushing forward. They slammed hard into the mat.

“Well done, herr. The cab is here.” Ambros said from the door.

Victor readied his belongings and packed the cab trunk full of books and clothes and the like. He then gestured to the driver to wait a moment as he gazed at his abode for a final time. His eyes ran up from the house, to the large mountains that served as the horizon behind it to the blue sky, scattered with wisps of clouds. He smiled as he eyes watered.

“I won’t forget.” He said as he stepped into the cab.