Character's full name: Alexander Damien Darling
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Sander, Hull
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Birthday: (if applicable)
Nationality/ Ethnicity: Canada
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Toronto

Appearance

Hair colour and style: Black
Eyes: Toxic green
Height: 6’0
Build: athletic/toned
Visible mutation: Silver/Grey fingertips
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: N/A
Other features: N/A

Everyday clothing style: Traditionally a short sleeve or sleeveless shirt of preferably darker colours which more easily conceal blood, these are then topped by another layer of clothing, normally something baggy such as a trench coat or hoody to mask/distort his figure and help disguise his mutation by having opponents assume that he carries his weapons on his person. As for his lower half a pair of worn jeans or old camo cargos will typically suffice. Finally in terms of footwear he has a tendency to favour the durable jet black boots he wore while in the armed forces and on that note a series of dog tags adorn his throat, none of which are his own.
Uniform: N/A
Sleepwear: Boxers
Miscellaneous clothing:

Character

Personality:
How to put this? I suffer from one of the worst contagions known to man, the black plague is as nothing compared to my torment and cancer would be a welcome diversion. I speak of course, of boredom; an affliction of the mind occurring only among sentient beings. A disease with no unique remedy I have been forced over the years to seek my panacea with precious little success…

Life has always held a certain fascination for me, an addictive allure if you will. The numerous ways in which a creature will struggle to subsist before finally succumbing to their ultimate demise, that is what I seek to experience. The joy of extinguishing the existence of another, observing as life fades from the eyes, listening to a final rattling breath or simply the abolition of consciousness as a bullet penetrates the skull… I wish to witness all this and more, and I have fulfilled my desires many times.

Likely there are those among you who label me as homicidal, dangerously unstable, perhaps even psychotic, yet I would beg to differ. I am not without restraint you see and I consider myself quite capable of rational thought, why just the other day I eagerly aided a holidaying family searching for their place of residence. I conversed with them for a full 300 seconds without maiming a single soul and happily informed them of the swiftest route to their abode which just so happened to rest beside a partially completed interstate. …Why are you looking at me like that?

*sigh*

Well it’s not as though I’m unaccustomed to social stigmatism; prejudice is something I have learned to deal with; mainly by ignoring the opinions of those whose disagree with me and sending them to an early grave. Still I can be reasoned with and, at times, even persuaded not to banish people from this weary mortal coil. I recall one most enjoyable occasion when I was on commission a few years ago and the survivors of a local rebel faction gave me access to their rather impressive armory in exchange for not laying waste to their village. Sadly though I was still duty bound to report their location and affiliation to my superiors and a missile strike was launched a day or so later.

Like every man though I have my limits, after all there is a point where blood simply cannot be washed out and people do seem determined to bother you if you wear too much of the stuff. Then there’s all the little costs to consider; fuel, maintenance, ammunition, taxes… oh yes I pay my taxes; after all the government funds many of my most common victims, and I would so hate for their ranks to go unreplenished.

…hmm? Your still here? I would have thought I’d explained myself quite thoroughly by now *sigh* I suppose some people simply need things to be spelled out for them.

I. Like. To. Kill. Things.

If any part of that is still unclear I would ask that you please cease this ridiculous excuse of an interview and unbind me so that I may for once do the human race a favour and eliminate your pitiful contribution from the gene pool.


[Excerpt from CSIS psychological review]
Subject appears to posses psychopathic tendencies, however said tendencies are related only to the subject of death. When properly restrained subject is capable of civil social discourse yet will often attempt to steer any conversation to the subject of mortality. If unable to act physically subject was found to enjoy videogames which simulated the act of killing. When entertained subject frequently adopts a comical, almost childish persona yet can easily be drawn to bursts of anger. Subject was also proved capable of rational thinking when a bartering system involving chess was introduced in exchange for videogames, demonstrating unusually high planning ability for his condition.

Currently unknown whether subject can be har

[Blood obscures the rest of the page, document is continued at next legible point]

Subject, aka me, has “proved capable” of escaping the crappy little room you call a cell.

Have fun cleaning up.

PS, I’m taking the Xbox with me.


Hobbies/ Interests: Maiming, Rending, Immolation, Halo, Killzone, Grand Theft Auto IV
Job or part time job and description: hmm, executioner sounds nice
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: I can think of no worse fate then boredom and as death seems to be nothing than an endless sleep I shall avoid mine at all costs; everyone else however is fair game.
Special talents: I have been trained in all conventional firearms and also possess a significant degree of knowledge in relation to chemistry, to clarify, think Fight Club.

Morality

Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Evil

[b]Mutations[/b]

Mutation Description: A little something I like to call transmutational storage; for those dimwits among us struggling to understand such a lexeme allow me to elucidate and put you out of your intellectual misery. Simply put, anything I touch is converted into pure energy; it is then absorbed through my skin into a unique type of cell which acts as my blood. Like any good magic trick however the disappearance is only half the act, the real skill is in making the vanished item reappear and it is a talent I have worked hard to achieve and in essence is purely a reverse of the prior process.

Now for those of you in the back shaking in your little booties at the possible power I command allow me to put aside at least some of your fears by informing you that I am only human… well not really, but the point is I have limitations. For one I can only convert objects that are within my grasp, I believe that this has something to do with the silver flesh upon my fingertips but one with my mere level of expertise cannot be certain. Secondly once I have reproduced an item I cannot create it again unless it has once more been absorbed, so sadly I am unable to conjure endless rivers of blood or repeatedly execute your favourite kitten, puppy, bunny or <insert treasured pet here>. Finally I appear to have a limitation as to exactly how much I am capable of storing at any one time, by my own modest estimations my storage is limited to approximately a 15’x15’x15 area and thus I am unable to assimilate collection of items with a total volume greater than the aforementioned size.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, who wants to shake hands? Come now, I promise I’ll give it back and as I’m feeling generous I’ll only beat with you with the wet end three times.

No takers? Such a shame.

Secondary mutation description: Photographic memory

Ah yes, where would I be without this little gem? Likely stranded in my senior year of high school forever attempting to prevail against my demented calculus professor, tell me sir if x is the number of seconds one can hold their breath underwater and is equal to x^2 +3y -12 and y is equal to 15+3x, how long do you have to live? Sir? *sigh* If only he had applied himself to the task at hand…

Hmm, I seem to have gone on something of a tangent, do forgive me it is most difficult to stay on track while reminiscing. As I was saying though, I possess a photographic memory; a most useful trait which I believe to be a result of my own unique chemical makeup, disaggregating it to a level that you plebeians will understand; each of my cells essentially contains the ability to memorize whatever it comes into contact with, for the most part this relates to the objects I convert and absorb. In regards to the neurons housed in my cranium however they are capable of memorizing the synaptic transfers between cells which occur as the brain interprets all the information it receives. Simply put it allows me to not only recall the ingredients for say… homemade explosives, but the process behind it as well.

Now where did I put my bleach?


Fighting Style

Explanation: While I try not to prescribe to any specific fighting style I did receive a fair amount of training in hand to hand combat while serving with the CAF, for the most part though I abide by own philosophy; everything is a weapon and any advantage which can be taken will be taken.
Pros for fighting style: Just like the Spanish inquisition no one expects to be attacked with a pair house keys or even a bottle cap thus I am able to retain the advantage of surprise in most of my engagements. The fact that I was also taught how to utilize various firearms in close combat also has some merit.

Cons for fighting style: For those of you prancing around in alabaster pajamas with multicoloured belts there is a high probability you will find my own unique methods to be somewhat ineffective, therefore should I encounter one of you karate kicking cretins I shall make certain to stay my distance and judge the effectiveness of your ‘martial arts’ against say… an MP5, or some other equally useful tool capable of solving 800 or more problems a minute.

Faction Allegiance

Allegiance? Dear oh dear you haven’t been paying attention have you? If you would kindly glance to the above portion of this document you would note that I have what might be termed a slight… issue, when it comes to authority, generally speaking anyone who tells me to perform an act I deem undesirable finds themselves intimately acquainted with their internal organs. Need I say more?


History Of Your Character:
Where to begin? I suppose I could start with my birth, a rather horrid affair if truth be told though it did have its moments. The start was full of screaming, pain, tears and that was just my mother, however things swiftly became rather dull right after that as I was wrapped up and packaged away with all the other hell spawns which had been churned out that day. That was a nightmare let me tell you; surrounded by dozens of screeching neonates and lacking the capability to strange a single one of them into blessed silence, however I digress.

My childhood was one of utmost tedium, at the time I did not truly understood myself and how I differed from the masses. I was never content with the trivial activities and distractions that satisfied so many of my peers; I gained no real sense of accomplishment in simply striking a diminutive onyx puck into a shallow net. The game always seemed to be lacking some inherent element and it was not until I reached my teenage years that I discovered the sports hidden potential for violence. I am not sure I can adequately describe the thrill that ran through me when I first struck down an opposing player; it was a simple maneuver, merely hooking my stick around the poor boys leg but the overwhelming cheer I received from the crowd rapidly spurred me on to new conquests and I swiftly earned the name skull breaker after a particularly entertaining incident where a young man just so happened to trip and place his cranium directly in the path of my aluminum hockey stick. To this day I have never seen blood bounce as far as it did on that ice rink.

Heh, good times.

Sadly any amount of healthy aggression from a boy my age was severely looked down upon at the time and my elders strove to divert my energies to other efforts seeking to install within me a sense of order and restraint, to that end I was enrolled in various martial arts classes, none of which lasted long; I simply could not comprehend or abide by the rules and limitations. I saw no need to restrict myself to a certain stance nor could I fathom the concept that certain areas of the body was off limits; it simply made no sense both then and now.

My educators did have one small success however, and that was in the realm of chemistry. I swiftly found myself fascinated by how a simple collection common, everyday elements, could be combined to create devastating effects. Needless to say most of the knowledge I gained in this area was self taught, where would we be without the scientific method?

Skipping forward a few years in order to save myself both time and energy I shall recommence at the point where I believe I truly began to come into my own; namely my career in the Canadian armed Forces, that was journey all its own. I still remember the charge of adrenaline which coursed through me the first time I was granted access to the armory. The sheer volume and variety of weaponry was astounding to a neophyte such as myself; pistols, tasers, assault rifles, grenades, rocket launchers, turret guns, sniper rifles all lined up for display and use, I couldn’t decide which I wanted first. Unhappily that decision did not rest with me but rather my units drill sergeant, who declared us unfit for weapons training, fortuitously though an unexpected accident left that particular officer in hospital and unable to feel anything below the waist.

The new drill sergeant was, for some reason, far more accommodating.

I suppose I could go on and detail my many exploits while on tour however I am beginning to experience a sense of ennui so I’m afraid I must keep things brief. Near the end of my tour of duty a rather awkward event took place which caused the exposure of my mutant abilities, (for some reason I just could not convince people that it was completely natural for an individuals head to abruptly disappear in a gushing crimson fountain of blood). This revelation swiftly caused me to become ostracized from my unit and a few higher ranking officers I had somehow managed to displease during my military career took the opportunity to turn the bureaucratic system against me; charging me with a series of war crimes which, while valid, possessed no evidence to substantiate them. I was then rapidly carted off to a military tribunal, found guilty on all accounts, and swiftly committed to a scientific testing centre which moonlighted a psychiatric asylum of sorts and well… if you’ve been a diligent little reader you know how that turned out.

Roleplay
What? There’s more to this abysmal abomination you call an application? Well forget it I’m done. I’ll admit it’s been fun; far too rarely do I get the chance to wax poetically about myself in the detail I so duly deserve. However, everyone has their breaking point, and for me this is that point, and as such I refuse to commit another locution to this insidious innovation of creation.

For those of you looking for more though… well, let’s just say I’ll be around.

I love the personality of this guy, Zephyr. I get the feeling I'll enjoy reading any thread he's in. The power seems interesting, too. I'm loving the way you set up the profile. Congrats on the secondary character!

Looking forward to seeing him around.

My, oh my, will I have fun RPing with you. Amazing application, and sure to be good times ahead.

hahaha funny application. His personality reaallly comes across. also, yeah for more canadians!

Oh, Zeph. You make my heart chuckle.

He sounds cool and well all in all I am scared of him and um *puts her hand out and closes her eyes in fear speaking in a small voice* Do not hurt me ok?

Sounds like a fun guy. *smiles*

Woah he's a rather...blunt and witty character and not exactly cuddly either. Well, I'd rather not have to meet him myself but-- hey Hull should be a blast. x3

can't wait to meet him and have some fun

"PS, I’m taking the Xbox with me."

Gosh, that was funny.
But terrifying.