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Individual
Character's full name: Micheal Everto Malum Iuguolo Montierre
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Imp
Gender: Male
Age: 879
Birthday: January 7
Nationality/ Ethnicity: Spanish
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Born in Kiev, lived first 200 years in Venice. After that never spent more than a couple months in one place.
Appearance
Hair colour and style: No hair.
Eyes: Dull grey, with veins of bright red in the iris.
Height: 2' 10"
Build: Thin, bony and wiry, looks like very little muscle at all. Actually as strong as the average human.
Visible mutation: Mike's mutation makes him look literally like an Imp from the tales of old. His skin is leathery and red, his frame looks wrong somehow, and his tail has a scorpion barb on the end of it. The small horns on top of his head are prominent due to his lack of hair, and his teeth are like little ebony needles, all 100 of them. His hands end in black claws sharp enough to cut through metal, and instead of feet he has the talons of a bird of prey.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Mike has self-inflicted scars all over his body, alchemical symbols chosen for their meanings. A small tattoo at the base of his neck reads 'Ego Sum Tamen Viator', which means 'I am but the messenger' in latin.
Other features: N/A
Everyday clothing style: Mike wears only a brown leather loincloth.
Uniform: none now, though I suppose if he had one it would be a skintight black suit with a tail slit.
Sleepwear: nekkid
Miscellaneous clothing: N/A
Character
Personality: Mike is not very cautious in anything he does. After having lived for all the years he had, many things become clearer. He realized that you need to live life in the moment, and forget about the future. Or at least, in his line of work. He doesn't really feel confidant trying to make friends, as he will eventually have to watch them wither, grow old, and die while he remains fit as a fiddle. He refuses to inflict that pain on himself, so he refuses to make friends. He is socially skilled, and knows exactly how to act with social grace at all times. However, he refuses to trap himself under the heading of 'socially acceptable' and so generally ignores manners completely and does what he feels like.
Hobbies/ Interests: Mike enjoys classical music, and is particularly susceptable to Mozart, who had been a close friend of his. He also likes Jazz, of any type, and the sound of an alto sax just makes him happy. One of his favorite pastimes is alchemy. He has long realized that making gold is impossible, but there is nothing like the smell of sulfur to relax. Who knows, maybe one day he'll get lucky.
Job or part time job and description: Mike is a proffessional hitman. In the old days, he would have been called an assassin, but he had learned that nowadays the gig was termed as a hitman.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Mike's main fear is the fear of having to watch his friends and people he loves die while he ages not a day. Also, he has irrational claustraphobia that he developed only recently and for no apparent reason.
Special talents: Mike can play a pipe organ very skillfully, and also enjoys painting abstracts, at which he is quite good. He did get some private tutoring from Van Go, after all.
Morality
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Bad. Just as people seem to either get either amazingly generous or incredibly bad tempered once they pass the 70 or so mark, Mike has become well within the sith side of the jedi spectrum over the years.
Mutations
Mutation description: Mike is what society would call an Imp. His physical features are almost identical to what popular culture says an imp should look like, minus the wings, and his morality matches the bill as well. Along with his looks comes amazing agility and speed. Mike can navigate up a rock wall faster than you could say "Gee, I don't think I can climb that", and make his way through laser tripwires without even touching the floor. Also, the stinging barb on the end of his tail contains a poison lethal enought that a tenth of a mL could kill a fully grown man. He can completly control the amount injected, so that he can knock out someone if that is what he needs instead of killing them.
Strengths: Mike's smaller stature and natural agility and speed are perfect for the jobs he is given, and are useful in a fight as well. His poison has no known antidote and is almost undetectable, so it is nice for hits that need to seem like accidents. His claws can also be used to dig into walls and climb, so he can hang on walls and ceilings and the like, and even scamper across them almost as fast as he can on the ground.
Weaknesses: Mike, due to his smaller stature, cannot do many things normal humans can. His physical appearance grants him no place in society, and most try to kill him on sight. Also, he has an irrational fear of cats, and it seems to be mutual. Cats of any size just put him on edge, and they have often attacked him on sight.
Secondary mutation description: Mike is immortal. He will live forever unless taken by blade or poison.
Strengths: Immortality. Enough said.
Weaknesses: Mike has to watch all of his friends wither and die as he grows not a day. Also, he has much longer to build himself some enemies, and he does have quite a few powerful people gunning for him.
Fighting Style
Explanation: Usually Mike won't be caught in a straight fight, but when he does, he fights dirty. He generally uses his superior speed and agility to get on top of his usually larger opponent, and stings them with his tail. If for whatever reason that fails, he will then go for the throat, eyes, or (if he's feeling mean) the crotch.
Pros for fighting style: The speed and ferocity of Mike's attacks usually catches his opponents off-guard, and the lethal poison in his tail makes quick work of most.
Cons for fighting style: If, for whatever reason, he does not take out his enemy quickly, they can generally beat the crap out of Mike due to his smaller size. In one particular instance, he was held at arms length by a grandmother and given a sound spanking with her purse.
Faction Allegiance
Unaffiliated, though planning to join Kabal.
History Of Your Character:
Micheal Everto Malum Iuguolo Montierre was born in Kiev to a Spanish missionary sent by the western Christian curch to console with the Orthodox Christian church and a very curious innkeeper's daughter. A few weeks before Mike's birth, his father was killed in an accident during which he had been run over by a wagon and then given a lethal dose of mercury as a cure.
Mike's mother was only slightly concerned. The thing between her and the Spanish missionary was a one-night stand, and that was that. When Mike was born, however, that changed. She became very concerned, for who but a representative of the church could say why she had a demon as a child. In any case, Mike came out at the exact same size he was now, fully formed both physically and mentally. When his mother tried drowning him in the lake, he wriggled out of her arms and stabbed her in the shoulder with his tail. She died, and he was all alone. He wandered the city for a while, until he wandered into the church. He didn't know what it was at the time, but when the choir boy saw him, his hysterical screams brought the father in. The father took Mike in, hoping that he might steal this minion from the devil, and save his soul. It was a futile effort, in the end.
After seven years of being reared under the strict doctrines of the Bible, Mike had enough, and rebelled against the church, killing half of the people in attendance at the time and burning the place to the ground. After that, Mike wandered the world, doing whatever he felt like and taking what he needed or wanted from the people he met. Then he found Venice. Venice was, and always will be, Mike's true home. Venice called to Mike in a way no other city ever had. It called to him enough that he spent 200 years there. During that time, Mike discovered that he like a sumptous living, and his particular talents had much use in a city filled with crime. It was then that he started his career as an assassin. After all those years, he made an enemy of the most powerful and wealthy family in Venice, the Votarce family, and so had to flee his beloved city, an army of mercenaries with the sole purpose of killing him on his heels. From that point on he discarded the name Micheal and went as Imp. He once again wandered the world, doing odd assassination jobs for money and kicks. So it went on, until the new world was discovered. The Votarces had been getting dangerously close to finding him again, so Mike hitched a ride on a ship making for America. He did the same thing as always there, the odd assassinations, until the wild west era. Then he found a much easier job that payed almost as well: freak show.
He lived in the same freak show caravan for as long as the wild west age lasted, then made his way to the now bustling cities in the northeast to start up his old trade again. Then the mutant registration act happened, and old Uncle Sam made a point to hunt down and detain Mike. He was then used as a hitman for the U.S. Government, which he really didn't mind, untill the act was dismantled. Then he fled the holding facility, and now finds himself growing weary of the constant cycle of no-questions-asked assassinations. Who might give him a destructive outlet for his talents? A name had been on the fringes of Mike's intellegence network for a while now, and it finally came into light: Hunter Antonescu
Roleplay
Where did you learn about this site?: Dogpile
Do you have any other existing characters, if so who: No
Sample RP:
Mike had been sitting in a tree in Central Park, throwing stones and sticks at passing cats and remineiscing about the good old days. He remembered back when electricity didn't even exist, and assassins had to use their own wit, cunning, skill, and luck to make it through a day. Back then, even assassins held to their word, and the business was limited to only a few, select, skilled individuals. Now any four-year old could take up a silenced pistol and kill a couple of people with none the wiser. The only advantage of all this technological crap is the increased security. At least that makes it more challenging, if only slightly.
Just then, his beeper started to buzz. Sighing, Mike reached down and pressed a button. Letters began to scroll across the screen: Found him. Empire State Building, floor 32, room 3207, 4:00 AM tomorrow. Well, well, it seemed that one of his contacts had dug up some information on a pet project of his. The pet project, you ask? Hunter Antonescu. That man had consistantly shown up on the fringes of most of Mike's contracts lately, and Mike was curious as to why. He wanted to know who this man was, and maybe even work out a favorable business agreement or two. The mantra of a good hitman is always thus: he thought, be overprepared, be careful, be paranoid. It works.
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