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Individual
Character's full name: Brandon Mathews Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Shockwave Gender: Male Age: 24 Date of Birth: 12/01/1987 Nationality/ Ethnicity: Caucasian, mixed heritage Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Orlando Florida
Appearance
Hair color and style: Long wavy brown hair, kept back in a ponytail. Eyes: Red Height: 6 feet tall Build: Average build, faint muscle tone Visible mutation: His eyes, though it seems to be a secondary, benign mutation Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Many small nick-and-scratch scars from using power. Other features:
Everyday clothing style: He's usually got jeans or jean shorts on, with a random assortment of t-shirts. Wears custom made goggles on his forehead Uniform: More a safety outfit then a uniform, really. Wears hand wraps, his goggles, a heavy black leather jacket, jeans with leather chaps over them, and steel toe boots Sleepwear: boxers and his goggles. Miscellaneous clothing: Custom built goggles made to withstand the backlash from his power
Character
Personality: Brandon's almost always hyper..and loud. He tries to be funny, and friendly to everyone, when he can. The young man does have a stubborn side, however, and when that's paired up with his short fuse, he can blow his top pretty easily. The flip side to that is, he's never angry for long, and never holds grudges without a good reason. To him, his friends are his life, since most of his family has either passed on, or too distant to keep good relations with. Hobbies/ Interests: He loves to draw, though he's only in the 'middle of the pack' so to say. He also likes to write, sing, and act. He does have a small collection of swords and other medieval melee weapons, most of which he made himself. Job or part time job and description: He works at a graphic design firm, making letter heads, business cards, and the like for companies. He can do minor web site changes too. On the side, he makes and repairs medieval weaponry. He makes a bit of money from it, but it's more hobby then job.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: He's scared of being useless, unable to help those he cares for. Special talents: Brandon's very creative, and tends to think in a different way then most people. The skill he has repairing and forging weapons can be used to repair minor metal objects.
Morality Despite being slightly selfish, he generally wants to help people. He's not above defending himself however, if things go sour.
Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: He's mostly good, though he has a few 'bad' moments where he gets into a selfish streak, and wants something without earning it.
Mutations
Mutation description: 'Pressure waves,' or 'shock waves,' like what an explosion lets out. He can make these come from his body, usually from his hands, or feet. He can make it come from all of him at once, however. Strengths: Large destructive radius, can push away most things in the direction of the wave. Brandon can control the direction and 'size' of the waves, though doing so requires a bit more energy. He can shove waves from his feet to make himself 'jump' very, VERY high.
Weaknesses: Pressure waves shatter windows, and knock objects about at high speeds. He often cuts himself up using the ability. It's indiscriminate too, so if he's not careful, he can hurt a lot of innocent people. He has to wear goggles when using the power, or he'll damage his eyes horribly. Each blast tires him a little bit. The larger the blast, the more tired he becomes. It's possible to knock himself out, if he does too much at once. He has to make bodily motions for the waves to work, so if he's completely tied up, with no way to move, he can't use his ability. He can't move overly large objects, such as cars, with the ability. The largest thing he could blow about would have to be a motorcycle, which weighs about 500 pounds. After such a thing, however, he'd be on his knees, gasping for air.
If he tries to blow away, let's say, a four door sedan, he could maybe move it 20 or so feet, then either pass out, or die, depending on his level of exhaustion. He has to use physical stamina, like a runner, to activate and use the power. He can make himself sick, pass out, or die, if he uses too much too fast. It has no penetration power, meaning if he hits a sheet of metal, it'll get blown away and likely bent, but there will be no 'holes' in it
Secondary mutation description: N/A Strengths: Weaknesses:
Fighting Style
Explanation: He tries to get in close, and 'augment' his punches and kicks with the pressure waves. He'll use the air cushion to defend himself while doing this. At long range, he just blasts away while running around, trying to keep himself from being a target.
Pros for fighting style: It's hard hitting, and easy for him to keep up the pressure on his opponents. Because he's always in motion, he's not very easy to hit. Cons for fighting style: He tires quickly, and in close combat, he can't handle multiple people very well. At long range he runs the risk of hurting bystanders, or causing damage to the surroundings and injuring himself.
Faction Allegiance Unaffiliated
History Of Your Character Brandon grew up in a small suburb of Orlando called Winter Park. He had a fairly normal first 13 years, went to school, made friends, got into trouble. A pretty normal life. At 12 he needed glasses, though he didn't like it. Once he hit 14, however, things started to go out of control for the poor boy. His father had a stroke, and had to be put into a home. His mother died of cancer a few months later. The boy suddenly had to go all the way up to Michigan, and live with an uncle he'd only visited three times. Uncle Jim was a nice guy, but a little strict. He started to send Brandon to karate classes, saying he needed to 'toughen up'. Brandon took to the classes well enough. He wasn't in the best of shape, but he seemed to enjoy the interaction. The last year of middle school in Michigan was hell, though. He got picked on constantly, and didn't manage to make many friends. About halfway through the school year, however, strange things started to happen. He woke up one morning, the usual blurriness from his bad eyesight completely gone. He first thought he had slept with his glasses on, till he saw them on the table next to his bed. He was confused, but didn't question it. At least...not until he looked into the mirror in the bathroom. His eyes were bright red! He gasped at this, and ran to tell his uncle. At first the man thought that Brandon was 'full of s***,' and wearing contacts. After taking him to the doctor, however, he was forced to accept that Brandon had indeed gained red eyes, and 20/20 vision. While this seemed great, it just got him picked on a lot more. Even his karate classes were more tense now, considering he kept getting odd looks, and off color comments about it. Finally, it all came to a head in a sparring match. One of the older kids, a boy named Damien, was taunting him while they were sparring. Brandon, as was usual, was starting to get mad at the boy. He was trying harder to score 'points' on him in the class, though most of his attacks were deflected. Eventually he got beaten, though the bully decided it'd be fun to keep hitting him. Sadly, the sensei was not in the room at the moment. The other kids didn't care, seeing Brandon as that anomaly that shouldn't be around. The poor young man finally snapped and leapt at the bully with a yell. He threw a punch at the boy's head, shutting his eyes tight with anger as he did so. His fist connected...and something clicked in his body. The first shock wave he ever made came loose that day. He had zero control, flinging the bully back into the practice mirrors. The mirrors shattered, the walls quivered, the windows blew out, and everything was thrown about the room. Brandon was injured badly by all the flying glass, cuts on his face, arms, and legs were bleeding badly. He wasn't the worst off, however. Most of the kids had been pinned under debris, and the bully had died of blood loss, due to the innumerable glass shards in his back and the broken bones from the jarring forces of Brandon's punch. When Brandon saw what had happened, he fled, crying as he pushed his way out the broken building. He went and hid in a nearby alleyway. He didn't even bother picking the glass out of his cuts till much later, after he had stopped being able to cry. This new 'power' scared him badly. He didn't want to use it anymore. Not if it caused so much damage and death. He had always wondered what it'd be like to be a 'mutant,' but now that he was one, he didn't know what to do, nor did he really like it anymore. He never went home after that, choosing to just keep to himself. He managed to raise himself well, despite only being 15, and living in Michigan, where the winters were bitterly cold. He managed to teach himself useful skills for survival, though not all of them were 'legal' skills. He actually sent himself to college, to finish school, and get a degree on these less-then-legal skills, mostly pickpocketing. During college, and after, he focused on trying to get his skills under control, and how to focus them. Now he works as much as he can, while trying to protect himself, and the few friends he manages to make. He took the name 'Shockwave' because of the power he had. Once he hit 23, he moved to New York, and found a good job with a graphic design firm. He went up quickly in the ranks, eventually becoming a project leader, because of his odd thinking, and usually happy personality.
Roleplay Where did you learn about this site?: Random Google search for x-men role play sites. this one seemed really well organized. Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Nope Sample RP: Brandon sighed happily, locking up the door once he quit work for the evening, being the fellow who worked late most days. As he walked towards his apartment, the sun started to sink down behind the horizon. He was wearing his jean jacket, goggles, and jean pants since it was late fall. Snow had fallen already, plus, the wind had been picking up lately. As Brandon walked, he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings all that much. He usually kept his guard up, since most people around here don't care for mutants, and he didn't exactly hide it. He didn't advertise either, but, a few people had seen him use his abilities. "Hey buddy." a voice said from Brandon's right. "Huh?" he asked, turning to look, blinking a bit. There was an alleyway, and someone was standing at the entrance. He was wearing all black leather, leather coat, leather pants, biker boots, and a red shirt. He was smoking a cigarette, and leaning against the wall to his left. "Wanna make some money?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face. Brandon frowned, not really trusting this fellow. But money was always something that peeked his interest. "Doing what?" he asked, not getting any closer to the guy, but turning towards him. "Breakin' into a bank." he said, chuckling a bit. "Yer talents'd be useful with dis." he said, slowly getting off the wall, and getting closer to the young man. "...Not interested." he said, backing up a few paces. "G'bye." he said, turning to walk away. "Hey!" the guy yelled, shoving Brandon's back hard. "I didn't say you could leave" he said, whipping out a chain from inside his jacket. "Dammit..." Brandon muttered, pulling his goggles down over his eyes. "One chance, leave me alone." he said, taking the front stance he learned from karate. The guy laughed, and several more of him seemed to come out from behind, all laughing too. "Mutant." he said simply, sighing. "Guess I don't have to hold back!" he said, lunging forward, hitting the first guy hard in the face. A pressure wave shot out of his fist, knocking the guy flying into the air, spinning end over end. He vanished in thin air, however, meaning he was a clone. "Wrong one." one of the 'guys' said, whipping Brandon across the face with the chain. He stumbled backwards from the hit, his nose broken and bleeding now. "Dammit!" he shouted again, pulling both hands back to his sides, and thrusting them out again. There was a sort of 'womph' sound, and a larger shock wave came from both hands. He accidentally made it -too- big, however. It hit the mutant and all his clones, but also shattered the glass from all the buildings along the path. The sidewalk cracked, cars swayed, lamp posts bent to the side slightly, and a few branches were knocked out of the trees. "Well...crap.." he muttered, falling to his knees, the glass raining down on his back, cutting shallow wounds in his neck, head and hands. He wasn't wearing his outfit, and he used too much energy. "Need to move..." he muttered to himself, but his body wouldn't respond right away. He did manage to limp himself away and hide, before the NYPD showed up. "Tomorrow's gonna suck..." he muttered, watching the flashing lights from the small alcove in the subway he was hiding in, wheezing heavily.
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