IndividualCharacter's full name: Jon Deacon
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: None
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Date of Birth: (February 23, 1989)
Nationality/Ethnicity: American/Caucasian
Birthplace/Home/ Place of origin: Detroit, Michigan
AppearanceHair color and style: Dirty Blond, slick back with the help of gel and grease, something he wears in tribute to his cousin, Kurt
Eyes: Brown
Height: 5'9
Build: Lean muscular, well toned from exercise. Being admitted in various juvenile facilities allowed him to work on his build. Also related to his mutation.
Visible Mutation: None
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Various left over wounds from his past, nothing too grotesque.
Other features: None
Everyday Clothing Style: Prefers T-shirts and denim jeans with boots, even in the stark of winter. Those things are
mostly the only clothing cheap enough for him to buy. For any other things he salvages over at charity organizations like
the Salvation Army.
Uniform: None
Sleepwear: Jon wears his street clothes has his sleeping attire, a habit he had taken up when he was homeless or drifting.
Miscellaneous clothing: Owns a set of white dress shirt and black dress pants with shoes and tie, the attire he worn before he stepped foot on to Rikers.
CharacterPersonality: At first glance Jon seems to be a unpleasant individual, even downright unlikeable at times. Angry with the cruel hand dealt to him, bottled up emotions has been a problem for Jon most of his whole life, and it doesn't seem to be going away. The expression "walking around with a chip on your shoulders" fits Jon perfectly, has he does so 24/7. He has a combative attitude about everything, usually directed towards friendly "outside" people who want to make conversation with him. Often he lashes out whenever he can, getting into fist fights and brawls in even the most shadiest of places. Due to his mutation he is allowed to do this in a self destructive matter, letting himself get pummeled and cut. The young 22 year old is diagnosed with Depression, a condition which arose after his cousin Kurt and Kurt's daughter left him, leaving him without a family. Jon's way of dealing with the pain is drowning it with booze or engaging in fights were there is no possible way of winning. Jon also shows issues with authority, a problem stemming back to his bad relationship with his mother. Jon usually keeps to himself, preferring the virtue of silence over the need to gossip or engage in small talk. This applies especially in crowds. But deep down under the tough surface is a decent guy who has a wounded soul. He has a pendant for outsiders and lost causes like himself, Jon often can be seen talking with bums and drunkards in the ween hours of the morning, about trivial matters of life. Spending more time on the sidewalk then school for a good part of his life, Jon developed a street wise sharpness to his character, something that was only nurtured at his stay at Juvie. He also likes to play chess quietly with the elderly in parks. Very direct, Jon doesn't shy around saying stuff a person needs to hear or whats on his mind. Often times it gets his ass kick, which only feeds into the cycle of self-destruction in compassing his life, a thing Jon happily embraces.
Hobbies/ Interests: Smoking, drinking to the point of Intoxication, getting pummeled, watching Pro-Wrestling, drinking hot sauce out of the bottle, motorcycles, reading history books, playing chess, music - particularly Motown Jazz from his native Detroit.
Job or part time job and description: Former mechanic-trainee and jail house shop/kitchen worker. Currently unemployed.
Fears/ Phobias/Concerns: Fear of bugs, a childhood phobia he never quite lost. Resulting from a millipede falling down from the ceiling on to his face at the age of 4, the normally harden ex-con finds himself out of breath at the sight of them. Another major concern is he refuses to acknowledge the reality that he is a Mutant. In self-denial Jon would rather see his mutation has a body disorder instead of a gift he can use to benefit others. His self-denial and prejudice against Mutants were the result being brought up in an environment were such things were the norm.
Special talents: Bottle-ship building
MoralityGood/ Bad/ Neutral/ Other: Good Cynic - Although a former resident of Rikers Island and at various juvenile facilities all over the country (with a reservation at Attica Prison waiting for him), Jon has been through the penal system more then once. Though never committing any hard crimes or serious felonies, Jon has been convicted of various petty crimes like shoplifting, trespassing, assault, vandalism; the most serious conviction (which landed him his stay at Rikers for the pending transportation to Attica) being voluntary manslaughter, a conviction that was later appealed and overturned. Spending time behind bars got Jon into thinking about his life, his past, his present and his future. Struck 24/7 with serial killers, gangbangers and other scum all waiting to go to prison, Jon thought about the things said to him from all the people he met in life, now blurs in his memory, and he realized he couldn't die in a cell like this. In that small box he reflected on what went wrong with his life, how he went from a happy, go lucky boy into the angry, violent, self-destructive man who doesn't give a sh!t he grew up to be. He was paroled has part of a plea deal before he found the answer. Now at least determined to stay out of trouble, Jon takes his day one at a time, waiting to see where life carries him next, waiting for it all to stop.
Mutations (DISCLAIMER: I am NOT a physician or in any way linked to the medical field, so if ANY function of how a normal human body works is incorrect, forgive me Xd) Mutation Description: Jon's body functions differently then normal humans. (No really right?
) His mutation occurs at a cellular level, revolving around his body structure and the function of his organs. For some reason, a mutation had occurred within Jon Deacon's Adrenal Gland. A normal human's adrenal gland weights around an average of 7 to 10 grams, Jon Deacon's weights 20 grams. Scientists debate whether its this increase weight is the cause of Jon's mutation. The adrenal gland's function is to regulate the release of hormones in the human body. These hormones are used to deal with stress, cognitive, physical, or emotional has well has aid in the growth of the human body. In Jon's case it revolves around the physical more then the rest. The hormones released in his body are 30x more potent then an average human's in homeostasis. This potency if experienced by humans will result in massive heart attacks or strokes, has their bodies would overload from the stress. Due to the potency of these hormones, Jon's body operates in the same condition as a normal human in top physical peak, only he does so with no work to it. Jon's mutation is caused by an offshoot variation of a component present in the X-Gene, those who have the mutation are called Myrmidons by experts; named after the tribe who fought under Achilles in the Trojan War.
Strengths: A Myrmidon processes pain and the way his body deals with it is goes beyond the realms of Human capacity. Jon's mutated Adrenal Glands produce what is termed Hyper-Adrenaline, a vastly more potent version of the hormone that occurs naturally in normal human beings. Released during a Fight or Flight Response, regular adrenaline increases heart rate, blood pressure, and tells the brain to divert blood flow to muscles, allowing for sudden increase speed and strength. Adrenaline also serves has a natural pain killer, suppressing the nervous system detection of pain. Other effects of the hormone are tunnel vision (where and individual's vision is constricted to whats in front of him for greater focus), Tachypsychia/feeling that time has slowed down, increased oxygen flow to the body, increased blood sugar level. For Jon these effects are heighten by Hyper-Adrenaline, (without getting all technical)
- Hyper-Adrenaline acts more has like an anesthetic then an analgesic. The difference in the two is the former eliminates all sensations and induces unconsciousness the latter simply removes numbs pain. H.Adrenaline serves has a combination of both. When Jon fights the physical sensations he has are completely blocked from him; senses like taste, touch, thermoception, proprioception, and most importantly, pain. The absences of pain allows Jon to plow through a fight fists flying without getting "hurt".
- Increase Strength and Speed induced by Hyper-Adrenaline is 5 times stronger then normal human beings at peak physical condition. Human Adrenaline takes 1 to 2 seconds to inject into the blood stream, the Hyper version does so in half a second, effectively activating Jon's mutant powers faster then a blink of an eye.
- Various Hormones also impact on Jon's physiology, "mutated" versions of them released on the onset of puberty help shape his body to the way it is today. These various hormones allowed for harder bone density (slightly above that of humans), easier muscle growth (to the point where its almost naturally occurring), faster tissue repair and stronger immune system (slightly above that of humans), and increase oxygen circulation (the result of a stronger heart)
Weaknesses: While consider to be above average humans, Myrmidons have a number of weaknesses to their powers which rendered them below Superhuman, and in some cases below normal ones.
- Due to the nature of Hyper-Adrenaline, the mutant would fall into a state of extreme exhaustion, collapsing or fainting after their powers wear off. This mirrors the nature of natural adrenaline, where after the body deems its not necessary to reply upon it the user "crashes". The only difference is natural adrenaline the after effects are limited to just exhaustion, very rarely leading to fainting or blacking out. The duration of Hyper-Adrenaline is entirely dependent on how much danger the mutant (subconsciously) deems a threat to be, once the threat is over, Hyper-Adrenaline shuts off, and "Hyper-Exhaustion" kicks in. Biology wise, Hyper-Adrenaline can not last more then half an hour, a Myrmidon's body automatically shuts off the chemical naturally, whether the threat is stopped or not. After Hyper-Adrenaline wears off it takes Jon (and other Myrmidons) 24 hours to regain the chemical in an amount capable of starting activation. During this process they are at risk of going into extreme shock capable of leading to death if medical help is not there. Black Out time for Myrmidons varies from individuals to individuals, for Jon its an hour.
- Hyper-Adrenaline kicks in because of a need, not a desire. A Myrmidon has no control over when the chemical kicks in has it is linked to a Fight or Flight response. Thus in some Myrmidons the activation of Fight or Flight varies according to the individuals fears. Strong phobias can activate Hyper-Adrenaline as well has life or death situations. For Jon, a harden individual, his powers would activate more often in according to fights and situations were split second reactions are required. He can not control when it activates or when the perfect time to use it, it occurs seemingly at random according to instinct. Often times in fights, his powers would activate at the throw of the first punch and he would shut down after wards and black out. Due to his self-destructive behavior, Hyper-Adrenaline doesn't activate when is life is at risk, has Jon's mind seemingly understands he doesn't care whether he'll live or die, thus literally "numbing" the triggers to an extent.
- Physically pain is NOT rendered immune to Jon when H.A kicks in, his nerves merely don't register the pain to his brain and thus he feels nothing. Damage is still being done, and injuries are still being taken. This can lead to disastrous results due to Jon not registering which part of his body is damaged. Many times in a fight Jon has thrown a punch with a broken arm, causing the injury to be more severe, dangerous, and crippling. Often times a Myrmidon can attack with a limb not realizing it is in fact broken UNTIL it is discovered via sight. When H.A. wears out, the nerves that register pain fire all at once, causing crippling surges of neutrons akin to taser shocks.
- Motorskills like aiming, or concentration, or delicate handwork is difficult when H.A. is flooded through the body. Hands would shake and eyes would flutter, and the mind is incapable of during complex things like math due to the sheer state of tension the body is put into. Thus Myrmidons revert back to natural primal instincts like territorial aggression or flight during its activation. Records have shown that this can be overcome with prolong practice of staying under control during H.A. activation, but such training requires a calm mind and relaxed personality (something Jon doesn't quiet have yet or at anytime soon).
Secondary mutation description: (if applicable)
This mutation should be linked or make sense with your first mutation. You don't need a second mutation, but you can develop one later on with moderator approval.
Strengths:Weaknesses:Fighting StyleExplanation: Street Fighting Brawler/"Fight Club" Fighting - Being in his share of fights and street brawls, Jon learned how to fight the thuggish way. Chin tucked in, arms raised above the eyebrows and locked, he knows how to get into a proper guard. Whether he stays in it is another question. Jon's self-destructive anger often gets the better of him and he will break his guard just to get a punch in. Like ancient Viking Berserkers, Jon Deacon can lose his cool and just start wailing fists at you wildly, not caring about whatever pain or injury he gets due to his mutation. He doesn't believe in an eye for an eye, he believes in an eye for two. His cousin Kurt, a former U.S. Soldier, taught him a few choke holds he still uses to this day.
Pros For Fighting Style: Jon's self destructive fighting style matches well with his mutation. Due to his healing factor and the biology of his body he is able to withstand various amounts of punishment due to the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through him all at one. Adrenaline, a natural pain killer, allows him to fight through the pain, and deal with the after effects later makes this normally counter productive fighting style into something plausible. The density of his skeleton allows for harder punches, thus giving him a slight edge over normal humans in going pound for pound. In short, its ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK, until someones down or dead.
Cons For Fighting Style: Relying on sheer strength instead of brains has its consequences. Expert opponents who specialize in martial arts or can stay cool under his barrage of punches can out maneuver him quiet easily. Might doesn't certainly always makes right when a fight is involve. The prospect of constantly attacking and attacking can get tiring, and due to the sudden flux of adrenaline if the fight is prolonged long enough Jon's body will crash/exhaust from the effects of it. And lets not forget the good old 2nd US Amendment too!
Faction AllegianceThe X-men/ The Order/ The Kabal/ Other/
UnaffiliatedHistory Of Your Character1989 had been the year
Jon Deacon arrived at St. Athanasius Hospital during a rainy morning with brown eyes and blond hair. Born to a Mr. and Mrs. Deacon of Detroit, Michigan, Jon had been a practical boy growing up, playing with firetrucks and sling shots, and enjoying baseball with his friends. Mr. Deacon had been the District Manager of a General Motor's production plant, Mrs. Deacon had been a house wife and loving mother. They lived in a house close to a museum, and everyday Jon ran to the park just along down the road. The Deacons had own a dog and cat, and had barbecues every week.
Years gone by, seasons change, people change. 1997 was the year Mr. Deacon had lost his job and before Jon had time to say anything his house was gone, the museum and park was replaced by strip clubs and liquor stores. At nights sleeping was impossible, cars sirens outside screamed so loud and some sounds were even scarier, like a loud crack in the night like tiny explosions, those made Jon cried. He wanted to go back to his old house, and his father made a promise that they would. One night Jon and found his father and mother arguing about something, the latter had been crying and the former was unable to look at her. Jon didn't know what the two were fighting about but he remember her mother screaming at his father, hitting him repeatedly. The next few months Mr. Deacon had spend his time looking for work while Mrs. Deacon took up a job that scared Jon. Jon tried getting his parents back together but he was just 8 years old, what could he have done? Mr. Deacon had left Jon and his mother a day after another fight. He didn't keep his promise.
Jon never had another father after Mr. Deacon, his mother had decided to quit her scary job and follow a string of boyfriends for financial support, one increasing nastier then the one before. Jon had been treated more like a dog then a boy growing up. Eventually he bit back. Mixing in with the wrong crowd and add in the onset of puberty and boiling anger and you'll have a recipe for a future inmate. Jon had known more about the street then school before he hit the age of ten. His teenage years was saved by Kurt, his half-cousin on his mother's side of the family who dropped by every half a decade to visit. A former US. Infantrymen who owned a small business fixing motorcycles and cars in Trenton, New Jersey, Jon found a big brother of sorts out of Kurt. He found what he need, a male figure, not a pimp or a drug dealer, or a murderer. Jon spend nearly a year with Kurt before going back to Detroit. In that year Jon had known love, betrayal, loneliness and hope.
Spending his time in New Jersey he realized just how bad Detroit was. The motors running the Motor City had grind to a stop and began to rust. People didn't work, they stole, killed, robbed. Jon went back to his Mom again and tried to make things right for them both. A fight ensued. After making a regretful decision, Jon left home for good. Going back to New Jersey, Jon was content with living the rest of his life covered in oil grease with a wrench in his hand and a cold beer in the other; but like the past life has a funny way of spinning things out of control. A cruel situation had happened to Kurt and when Jon went to help him, Kurt left his life just has fast has he came in.
Jon was on the road again, and found himself a life of pain and anger and perpetual loneliness. Faces seemed to come and go before him until someone of Kurt's family became dependent on Jon. It was this person that triggered Jon's powers and changed Jon's life forever.
But like the seasons, she came and went and Jon was lost again. In a blink he found himself in jail, on the verge of prison until a certain group of people took interest in him. It is 2011, Jon is 22 years old.
RoleplayWhere did you learn about this site?: Google. Going WAY BACK, BACK to the old forums, where MRO use to just be called MO, I had a character named Sun Beam. The old forums were very inactive often (a god damn ghost town really), and years later I thought I might try so again in this new incarnation. I hope this whole thing can sharpen my writing skills for a future writing career
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Nada.
Sample RP: He waved and Jon entered without a sound, saved for the rattle of the cuffs on his hands. "Hold still." he said. Jon stuck his arms out behind his back; the cuffs unlocked with a click and slithered out into the guard's hand. It was common routine, has much has pecking a girl's cheek or holding a door open was to the outside world. Jail was a different thing, and in here Jon had to look and act like an inmate around guards. What did that mean?
Jon threw his weight into the punch, but the quicker guard caught him and spun him to the wall. Concrete was heavy and hard. He felt the ground rest up to him, and then everything went black. When he woke up, the pain throbbed in long pulverizing bursts, and Jon couldn't help but grin. Blood trickled down the side of his head. Pain was the only sensation he could feel in his life anyway anymore. He welcomed it. Bleeding meant you were alive. You can't kill something that doesn't bleed. Trees maybe, but good lucking finding them in here.
The floors of Rikers Island were made to be cold and lifeless, hard and miserable. People were not supposed to be warm in this place, happy in this place,
safe in this place. It hurt to think and the world spun, but Jon wrestled onto his back. Cemented over like a bomb shelter his eyes lingered at the ceiling, staring at its ugly peeling olive-dab paint. A world upside down seemed to make more sense to Jon Deacon. Between the thin gaps through rusting steel bars laid the human jungle.
This place was so simple. Three meals a day of consisting of a drink, a sandwich or pasta, and some fruit. There was always someone checking up on you, and watching you so you'll never feel alone. There were no leaks in the ceiling were rain or sleek or snow could come in. They had a large areas where you can shower, exercise and work in. You would never have to be scared or be afraid of people passing through solid bars to hurt you. If there was an nuclear explosion, he would have a better chance of surviving then the poor schmoes outside. This wasn't the way in the sleekly clean free world. Jail even told you when to dump. This place was simple, it made sense to Jon. The world didn't.
It never did.
"For a human being you spend an awful lot of time on the floor." The voice was hoarse and rusty, but the tone was light spirited, observant, almost sarcastic. Jon chuckled, acknowledging with a hard fought nod. The ringing pain was still present, pulsating like a heart beat slow and steady in his head.
"I'm a human sidewalk."
Jon wiped his head with a sleeve and looked at his cellmate. He tried to hide the smirk on his face but his cellmate knew. Big Devil stared at him with droopy eyes. Wrinkles appeared on his forehead looking like the veins of a old muddy river. His black skin was greasy with oil and sweat, making his long fuzzy beard damp and dark. Big Devil didn't trust the showers here. He didn't trust showers in general. The man didn't even believe in brushing his teeth! He always had a conspiracy theory that Mutant Rights leaders were poisoning humans with toothpaste. The stench was foul and all conquering, but nothing that couldn't be gotten use too. The key to jail and prison was to just get use to things, to adapt like evolution called for. Would Darwin agree that the incarcerated were the most adapted?
"How's your head?" Big Devil asked.
"I'll live."
Big Devil's laugh was deep and weighted, coming straight from inside his gut.
"For how long?" he bellowed.
"Till I get out of here and die a free man." Jon smiled back. His cellmate's face dropped his expression. Jon's words had told Big Devil everything he needed to know.
The two waited for the guard change before they talked. Done in secret, the process took place behind closed doors and out of random selection. But Rikers' inmates knew which footstep belonged to who. Their guard's footsteps were distinctive enough to be heard through the eight inch concrete walls around them. You did had to listen to them 24/7, eventually they became music.
They're dancers. Jon said to himself on his first night in jail, alone in his cell.
"When is it?" Big Devil asked, leaning closer to him. The man placed his hands together, and fumbled with them.
"Monday coming." Jon said, climbing on his bed, dirt and dust clinging on to his puke green prison suit. He felt the metal rising up to him through the thin mattress to stab at his back.
"In the morning, before sunlight." Jon propped his hands underneath his head, has if he was out in a picnic laying on fields of glass.
"Good idea." Big Devil said, pausing a moment after. Jon stared at the ceiling, watching a fly buzz around his cell. He wondered what the jury convicted that poor bastard for? Was it burglary? Flies were always going to places were they were unwelcome. Through a window no one could ever be tall enough to see through, the sky was orange and red after the golden yolk set. The fly buzzed out.
At least someone gets away, Jon thought.
"You think it will be safe?" Big Devil grinned, his yellow teeth shining like a school bus.
"I've been in here long enough to know my way around." He left it at that.
Jon turned his head around and looked out of the cell. He watched Rikers in front of him, taking all of it in. Cell Block D of the Central Penal Reform Unit was a large maze of stairs and cells stacked upon four tiers. The cells housed two, sometimes three or four inmates at the time; it was Rikers' way of accommodating the "surplus populous" has the Warden said. The fifth tier held the control room were a set of eyes were always watching through tinted windows. Every entrance was a reinforced automated door, with no knobs or handles, and always point at with a camera. To the floor stood the Recreation area, nothing more then round tables and chairs bolted and welled down.
"Round tables meant everyone is fair" Big Devil said when he showed things around for Jon on his arrival.
"There are no corners so no one stands out. You can't imagine how much inmates respect them doing that." The cell block had a TV until someone smashed over an inmates head. The prisoners had been more upset with the TV then the fifty stitches the poor fella had to get.
"How many of them do you think know?" Jon asked. His eyes fluttered at the caged animals all around him. He counted 20, 30, 40- it was never quiet in Jail, the inmates bark and howl sporadically, it was like being trapped inside a Lion's cage.
"Word always get around. Everyone can hear you through the walls or something." Big Devil chuckled, looking through the bars at the hive of inmates around them. Big Devil was a small man, shorter then Jon by half a head, with bushy unkempt eyebrows and the remnants of an afro along the sides of his crown line. Jon snapped a look at him, his eyes beaming suddenly.
"I'm no mutie B.D." Jon said, his voice tense, hands balled into a fist.
"What's the matter? Don't like to be a mutie in here?" Big Devil smiled.
Jon's stare was unblinking. He was only three feet away from him. Big Devil had been the only one who never picked a fight with Jon. Why now? For all he knew Big Devil could try to kill him right this moment. Often times new inmates would be hazed brutally, but Big Devil spared Jon of that. He probably seen the way Jon carried himself and had second thoughts. Jon's track record help too, the first hour in Rikers' he had racked up four fistfights, the last of which sent him to the infirmary. He was sent to prison but didn't really check in until a week later.
"Gs, Cs, Rs, and Ms. Almost everyone in here falls into those four-"
"I am not a god damn mutant." Jon said again.
"And I am not black. Or old. Or in prison." He said, raising his hands with a frown. Big Devil looked into Jon's eyes, not backing down either.
"Let the parole officer hear that."
Jon looked out of his cell again. Rikers was a hornet's hive for those four types. Inmates swarmed to find Gs alone in the showers, and they set out to make lessons out of them. Rs too, the lesson often taught by the point of shank or pummeling of fists. Cs were another story all together, they were little more then human toilets. Muties have it the worst, some much that the Government had ordered the construction of specialized "mutant proof" prisons all over the country. Under the Reagan era, a law was almost passed that required Mutants to register with the state, and only in span of last decade, with the Government. In federal law, a mutant had the option to identify themselves has as a mutant before they were incarcerated, allowing them to transfer to such facilities. Still many mutants would rather take the risk then leave "Freak Houses" has they were called. They wouldn't find society waiting outside quite fond of them. Jon knew the risks getting out of here on these terms, but he was no mutant however. Taking a plea deal didn't make anyone a mutant.
"It's just something wrong with me.
That's all. Like a condition or something." Big Devil cocked two eyebrows, his eyes stretched wide at the comment. The fat under his double chin juggled when he burst out laughing.
"You mean you have high cholesterol then huh?" Big Devil said in between grasps of laughter. Jon clenched his fists harder, trying to keep his face like stone.
"I'm not a freak show."
"So what are you then? When you get out there?"
The was an easy question for Jon.
"I'm going to be just another jailbird jackass. Pumping gas at some roadside truck stop somewhere." Jon scratched his nose.
"I'm going to eat bologna sandwiches, and save just enough change to get a beer once a week for the rest of my life."
Jon turned to look at him.
"What am I going to out there? Go back to school? Earn a freaking degree? Learn to fly a plane? I'm not smart enough for that."
"Nope, you're not, otherwise you wouldn't be in here." Big Devil chuckled. Jon had been right. If the economy was has bad has some of the new inmates had claimed it was, what chance has a ex-con have out there? Has for why he was in here, Jon had his reasons and kept his mouth shut about them. Rumors still flew around. Word had said he had killed a cop, or an ex-girlfriend who cheated on him, or someone who stole from him and he had managed to get rid of enough evidence where the Jury could not convict. He let the rumors go around. Some had truth in them.
"So when can I expect you back in here?" Big Devil said.
"I'm going to be dead before I do." Jon said watching has guards began to wheel up ugly orange trays with food up the tiers.
"You can bet on that." Jon nodded.
"See you in a month." his inmate bellowed.
Today's meal had been a bologna sandwich accompanied by a pint of skim milk, a "garden" salad, and an apple. The bread on the sandwich had gone stale, the meat fell apart when you touched it. The "garden" salad had been nothing more then thin frozen slices of lettuce and carrots crudely hacked and chopped with no dressing. The skim milk was always putrid and had the texture of piss water. Jon stared at the only thing he could possibly stomach. The apple laid in his hands, and Jon could only wonder was there a difference in taste from apples in jail compared to those outside. Big Devil didn't complain, Jon offered the rest of his food and watched has his cellmate jammed two bologna sandwiches together and choked it down. Specks of bread and meat clung to his beard.
"Last meal, better eat up." He said
Jon didn't reply.
"When you get out, get some decent food for me will you? A cheeseburger, or a nice steak or something." Big Devil said running a folk over his salad, watching has a roach scurried out of there, shooing him along.
Jon stared at the apple and shook his head. Bouncing the fruit up and down it felt almost the same weight just like he remembered. It was long ago, but he remembered. His hand whined far back, locked and loaded. Big Devil stared on, cocking his head aside. "What the hell-" Jon flung the apple into cold concrete wall full force, watching it explode into pieces.
"I'll do ya one better."His eyes glanced to his cell mate.
"A dog at Yankee Stadium." Jon said warmly.
That brought a yellow grin on Big Devil's face.
) His mutation occurs at a cellular level, revolving around his body structure and the function of his organs. For some reason, a mutation had occurred within Jon Deacon's Adrenal Gland. A normal human's adrenal gland weights around an average of 7 to 10 grams, Jon Deacon's weights 20 grams. Scientists debate whether its this increase weight is the cause of Jon's mutation. The adrenal gland's function is to regulate the release of hormones in the human body. These hormones are used to deal with stress, cognitive, physical, or emotional has well has aid in the growth of the human body. In Jon's case it revolves around the physical more then the rest. The hormones released in his body are 30x more potent then an average human's in homeostasis. This potency if experienced by humans will result in massive heart attacks or strokes, has their bodies would overload from the stress. Due to the potency of these hormones, Jon's body operates in the same condition as a normal human in top physical peak, only he does so with no work to it. Jon's mutation is caused by an offshoot variation of a component present in the X-Gene, those who have the mutation are called Myrmidons by experts; named after the tribe who fought under Achilles in the Trojan War. 
Out of curiosity, did you ever play on the 
