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Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Slick
Gender: Male
Age: 21
Date of Birth: 03/20/1999
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: New York. He is currently squatting in an old decommissioned apartment building.
Nationality: American
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: Caucasian

Appearance

Hair color and style: Messy, brown hair. Often left messy and untouched, slicked back or held upwards in a fauxhawk.
Skin Tone: Tanned.
Eye Color: Slick has heterochromia, with one iris being such a dark shade of brown that it appears black and the other one a very light shade of brown.
Height: 6'1"
Build: Slick is pretty skinny but he recently started to build some muscle.
Visible mutation: While his mutation itself is not visible, the effects off it are and often leave him looking dirty, like a mechanic who has been elbow deep in a car all day.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Slick has his left nostril pierced twice, with two hoops through it. His tongue is also pierced. He has a crappy tattoo of a Zippo Lighter on his abdomen. He has a large burn scar over his lower left leg.
Other features: Slick usually has a bruise or two. He is missing his left lateral incisor. He always smells of Gasoline.

Everyday clothing style: All of Slick's clothes seem dirty or stained dark brown/black. He typically wears ripped jeans, leather or denim jackets which usually look old or frayed. He only owns one pair of boots, which are mid-knee height military boots.
Uniform: N/A
Sleepwear: Usually either naked, in his underwear or fully clothed minus Boots.
Miscellaneous clothing: He's always wearing a clear crystal on a string.

Character

Personality: Slick can come across as rude, crude, mean or downright hostile to those who don't know him - and that's how he likes it. A carefully crafted persona to try and keep people at arm's length. He often uses sarcasm or dry humour to try and avoid questions so that people don't get too close or invested in him. Despite this seemingly nasty outward attitude Slick can be quite charming, especially for someone who often looks like they're covered in dirt, usually when he wants something - or someone.

As is the case with many people who use this hostile defense mechanism, Slick is ultimately very lonely. He feels as if no humans or even other mutants would understand what he's been going through so therefore wont open up to them. He's also afraid of hurting anybody he cares about and the only way he can ensure that never happens is to never care about anybody ever again.

Slick missed a lot of school when he was growing up and as a side effect can come across a bit slow and ditzy at times and often struggling to read or spell words correctly.


Job or part time job and description: Slick occasionally bartends at a sleazy divebar known as The Rusty Needle. His true career, if you could call it that, is as a professional arsonist. Slick has been setting buildings and cars on fire for money since he was a teenager and was a member of a Gang - until recently.
Hobbies/Interests: Slick enjoys old classic punk and rock music. He also has an eye for art and enjoys painting as well as visiting museums. He has recently started to get into Tarot Cards and Astrology too.
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: Dying, Drowning, Bats. He has frequent night terrors about his brothers dying.
Special talents: Slick can juggle and is a talented painter.

Morality

Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Chaotic Neutral. While he's not particularly good or maliciously vicious or evil, you can't exactly spend years burning buildings to the ground for money and say you're not a chaotic entity.

Mutations

Mutation description:
Petroleum Manipulation - Slick is able to generate and control the highly toxic, slippery and flammable substance, Petroleum Oil in it's crude form, or in the refined forms of Gasoline or Kerosene. Slick's body has mutated so that he can secrete this substance from the pores of his skin but most heavily through his arms and hands. This secretion level can range from a light trickle to projecting it with enough force to create a steady stream. He is also able to control Oil's shape and movements with his mind as long as he is able to see it.

Fire Resistance - As a sort of safety net, Slick's body is also able to withstand a greater amount of heat than a normal human body. As a side effect of this, Slick always feels warm to the touch - even if he himself might feel cold.

Strengths: Well, a major strength to being able to control one of the most flammable sustances on earth seems obvious - it's incredibly flammable. Slick's power is the reason his career has been so successful. However it's a much more flexible substance than you might think. Petroleum is a notoriously slippery liquid and walking over a slick of oil will almost always result in someone slipping and falling over. Because of it's inherent lubricating effects, if somewhere were to grab Slick he can usually wriggle free.


Weaknesses and Limitations:

Slick can only control Petroleum that he can see, and if he secretes his own jets of oil it will typically only be able to reach about 15 feet away from him without him taking direct control of it. The length of time he can manipulate petrol is dependant on the mass he's trying to control. He could move an 8-Ball sized glob of oil indefinitely but when reaching his upper limit of control, about 100 Gallons at a time he will only be able to shape it for about 10 seconds before losing control. When creating oil, Slick can pump out his 'full tank' of Gas, around 40 gallons, in about 30 seconds but once he runs dry he will feel extremely dehydrated and it will take him about 2 hours to get his full reserve back. He can create small trickles of oil for an indefinite amounts of time. The feeling of 'running out of juice' is extremely unpleasant, so Slick usually prefers to bring his own gasoline with him rather than creating it himself.

Slick can only control or generate petroleum oil in it's crude form, as gasoline or as kerosene - he cannot control other forms of fuel as Diesel, Butane, Heavy Fuel Oil etc. He is only able to control these substances while in their liquid state so he is unable to control the flammable vapors that come off petroleum. Because of this he frequently sets himself a light in short bursts of fire - fortunately his resistance helps mitigate this but in prolonged engagements it will start to burn away his skin.

If Slick tries to create more oil than he's capable off doing then he he will rapidly become dehydrated as his body starts converting things like water into oil to meet the quota. This will result in him feeling weak, light headed, sluggish and faint. If he keeps going he will eventually pass out from extreme dehydration and potentially die without medical attention. When he wakes up from doing this he will often suffer from something similar to a Hang Over - except about 10x as bad.

If Slick tries to handle more heat than his resistance will let him he will start burning just like everybody else. He is capable of withstanding the ambient heat from flames and even being exposed to or standing in direct flames for about 5 consectutive seconds before his body will start to burn up, however extreme amounts of heat such as lava or magma, or even large bonfires will burn him the same as they would anybody.

As Slick's body and clothes are usually covered in some amount of oil, his hands are naturally slippery and he will often drop objects or slip due to some oil being on the sole of his boots. When he is nervous, Slick may even appear to sweat oil which will make these effects much worse. He smells strongly off gasoline meaning that anybody with an acute sense of smell will be able to find him.


Physical Abilities

General Physical Capabilities: Slick is pretty meek, but has recently started working out. He's about as strong and fast as the average person and his reflexes are nothing special. He is more flexible than the average person but nothing extreme. He could probably do the splits if he pushed himself.
Fighting Style: Slick has no formal fighting training but is learning to try and incorporate his powers into his fighting style, often slicking the ground mid fight so his opponent slips, or dousing a weapon in oil and setting it aflame. Another trick he has learned is that if someone grabs him he can usually squirm his way out of it due to the slippery nature of his powers.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Without a weapon, even if he does make someone fall over and gain the upper hand, he can't really do much to captialize on it. If he slicks a metal pipe with oil and sets it aflame it becomes more likely to slip out of his hands and if he creates an oil slick on the ground then he could slip on it just as easily as them.

History Of Your Character
Slick grew up in the Bronx of New York City and lived in a crummy apartment with his father, Derek Bane and his two brothers, Tyler and Tony, the three of them being triplets. His mother died in childbirth due to unforeseen complications, leaving his father to raise the boys alone. To say they lived a difficult life would be an understatement. The boys were constantly missing meals, getting into fights - with eachother and with other kids - and hardly ever went to school. Their father was no better, and was a career criminal. He made his living off mugging people, hitting small corner stores with his small gang of friends and occasionally stealing and reselling cars.

Due to their lack of education and their bad nature, Tomas, Tony and Tyler all grew up to join their father's 'business'. They'd been committing crimes since they were 10, often having one of them distract a lady while the other two went through her purse etc. but this was a huge step up. Their first job as a family involved stealing a Jeep from a local criminal. It went... less well than they hoped. They got the Jeep in the end but Tony got his arm broken by a baseball bat and Tyler broke a rib from getting kicked. After that, Derek decided he wasn't going to bring the boys on anymore potentially violent outings.

On the their 16th birthday, the triplets awoke to an incredibly strange sight. Tomas and Tyler looked over to Tony, who yawned and scratched his head. His eyes widened when he realised he could still feel his hand on his lap. Tony looked down at his body and saw that an entirely set set of arms had grown out from his arm pits. He screamed, which panicked Tomas, which panicked Tyler, who screamed - and when he screamed sheets of cream coloured bone slid from under invisible slits in his skin, sheathing his body in a suit on heavy bone armor. The triplets began freaking out which prompted their father to burst into the room. "What the fuc-"

The next few weeks were... strange. It had taken Tyler a few days to learn how to make the bone sheets slide back under his skin and the extra arms that had sprouted from Tony, while originally weak and emancipated, were getting stronger every day. The boys and their Father, who couldnt believe his luck - mutants are an incredibly valuable tool when it comes to commiting crime, kept waiting for Tomas to manifest powers of his own, but there was no sign off them. He was the youngest of the three so they figured he might've just been a late bloomer.

After a few months, Tomas had still shown no sign of developing powers while his brothers were getting more proficient and talented with theirs everyday. Seeing them growing in strength everyday, Derek entrusted the boys with a job of their own, an arson job. They'd been hired to burn down a warehouse on the docks. Derek was originally only going to send Tyler and Tony but decided to send Tomas too, just so he'd know the drill if he ever manifested powers of his own. A decision that would bite them all in the ass.

The next night the triplets snuck into the docks and into the warehouse through a broken window. Tony and Tyler dispatched of the few guards with ease. Watching them use their powers filled Tomas with such a jealous rage. He was infected with thoughts of doubt and anxiety and anger. He was only brought along out of pity. His brothers went up stairs into the warehouse's office, as their father had given them a special job of their own, leaving the spreading of the gasoline to Tomas. This was the final nail in the coffin. His petty rage reached a peak and he started ranting to himself about them getting special treatment from their father. And that's when he started to notice that the skin on his arms was darkening. When he rubbed at them the darkness smeared, revealing it to be a liquid. While he intitally panicked, Tomas quickly realised that this was the answer to his prayers. He began laughing and in his joy, the dark liquid started to spray from his hands, lining the walls of the warehouse. "Just wait until i show them this!"

Tomas' joy was cut short when he heard a man behind him yell "HEY!" but before he could react, the man fired his gun. The bullet missed Tomas but it hit a metal tool box and sent sparks cascading to the floor of the warehouse - which was slicked with highly flammable oil. Within seconds the entire warehouse erupted in flames. Tomas ran from the building but was not able to escape the flames entirely, his left leg being engulfed before he stopped dropped and rolled it out. Tomas watched as the building erupted into a pillar of smoke... with his brothers still inside.

He didn't go home that night - or ever again. He didnt know if it was out of fear of what his father would say or the thought of having to see his father's reaction to the news. He found a new life on the other side of the city. If you could call it a life. He spent his time drifting from abandoned building to abandoned building. He did eventually gain some more control over his ability and was able to use it to make a profit, doing the very thing that he believed had killed his brothers - arson. He called it ironic, but he doesn't even know the meaning off the word. He just says to to try and keep himself sane.

He has spent the last year living in an old derelict apartment building with some other shady individuals, with no place to go and no future in sight. He found out from an old newspaper he found that his brothers had actually survived the fire, but he couldn't face them or his father - not now, not ever - so incase they decided to come looking for him, he was going to make himself harder to find, so he started going by a nickname - Slick.

Roleplay
What’s your OOC alias?: Homewrecker
Where did you learn about this site?: I just googled x-men roleplay.

Sample RP: Slick crouched under the broken door that lead into the old dying apartment building that he was calling home, ignoring the homeless person sleeping on cardboard outside it. The 4 story building was decomissioned when they found asbestos in the walls, but Slick figured that since he spends most of his time at the window anyway that he'd be fine. He scanned the concrete foyer, the walls covered in gang tags and dried blood. His footsteps loudly creaked throughout the entire building like gasps of pain. The air was thick, stuffy, smelt of body odor and god knows what else. He could hear coughing coming from some of the abandoned apartments, other squatters, criminals and scavengers who'd decided to try their luck. After climbing the first two staircases, skipping over the missing steps and broken floorboards, he walked down the short hallway to the apartment he'd claimed - it had a balcony and he enjoyed the fresh air. But as he approached the door he saw that it'd been opened, and he had shut it when he left.

Slick approached the door slowly, the broken glass that was covering the hallway floor crunching gently under his boots, placing his hand on it's splintered wood he pushed it open. It's old rusted hinge resisted and loudly creaked. As he walked into the filthy apartment, he saw two people standing in the middle of the room, clutching paper bags - probably drugs or something. He loudly cleared his throat.

 "Get out - this hole's mine, go find another one to hide in." He said, folding his arms over his chest. That's right. Project your voice, straighten your spine. Make them know that they're more scared of you than you are off them.

"I aint see no name on it." One of them sneered, the other laughed and whipped out a small switchblade.

"Yeah, we aint gonna leave - what're you gonna do about it."



And then he remembered.

"Oh F**k" He turned and looked into the shards of broken window glass on the balcony to see the large strip of black oil he had just rubbed across his forehead.
"... I hate it here." He took another swig from the bottle before sitting on his ass, back resting against the metal railing.