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Individual

Character's full name: Artair Hawke.
Alias/ Nickname/ Code name: Hawk(AKA Why don’t I get a nickname?).
Gender: Male.
Age: 21.
Date of Birth:12/20/95
Birthplace/ Home/ Place of origin: Kirkwall, Scotland.
Nationality: British.
Ethnicity/ Cultural Heritage: White/Gaelic

Appearance

Hair colour and style: Short red hair, usually wild, very, very occasionally gelled.
Skin Tone: Caucasian(very pale).
Eye Colour: Dark Blue.
Height: 5ft 10/11 Inches.
Build: Slightly broader than average and well-muscled.
Visible mutation: None.
Scars/ Tattoos/ Piercings: Black tattoo on his left shoulder of Celtic bear, deep surgical scars down the centre of his chest and over his heart.
Other features: Bounces between clean shaven and having a short ginger beard/moustache.

Everyday clothing style: Jeans, t-shirts and hoodies are standard fare. Found his clothing habits in the early 2000’s and has stuck with it. Not picky about clothes, except jumpers (He hates jumpers).
Uniform: N/A
Sleepwear: Boxers, if anything.
Miscellaneous clothing: His “formalwear” is a kilt, with all the trappings. That includes the knife. He’s pretty comfortable in it, but that’s not hard considering how freeing they are to wear. He’s so far worn it at every formal do he’s been too. A ring inscribed with the language from the Ogham stones on Orkney, bought for him when he left to go to NYU.

Character

Personality:
Artair is generally polite, if not friendly, and treats most people he meets with the same amount of respect. In true British fashion, the closer a friend you are to him, the more he’d swear at you and insult. It’s not malicious, but a general show of comradery. He’s also a sarcastic sod, to the point where some people can’t tell when he’s not being sarcastic. He has a quick wit, something he employs to entertain friends, or worse, belittle so-called “opponents”. His temper has always gotten him into trouble, especially considering it’s started more than one fight. While he’s better at controlling his temper, it’s still as hot and fiery as it was when he was a teenager.

Smaller minded people would call him a pessimist, but Artair prefers the term realist. He knows how bad life is, and expects more of the same. This doesn’t mean he isn’t happy, but he know more struggles are around the corner and is standing ready to face them. He is however, jaded when it comes to people and their motivations and will tend to act cynically when asked to consider other people/ humanity at large.

He’s more introverted than anything else but is up for a good time with friends. He’s not generally the one trying to organise group events but if no one else will he’s willing to try to lead. In contrast, he is outgoing in regards to trying new and interesting experiences. Looking for a friend to try paintballing or parkour? Give Artair a call.

When it comes to politics he generally ignores it, especially since most of what he’s exposed to he can’t change (being a foreign student and all) but when it comes to the idea of personal freedom against national security, he stands against the government. Especially when it comes to mutants and the controlling polices being levied against them.

Hobbies/ Interests: Took H.E.M.A (Historical European Martial Arts) for a few years when he lived on Orkney and while at university he tries to spar and train while studying. Also enjoys rugby, even if he’s terrible at it.
Job or part time job and description: Full-time Student, Part-Time Entertainer (musician)
Fears/ phobias/ concerns: General distrusting of people, takes a while to warm up to someone. Phobia of being on open water.
Special talents: Semi-professional skill at violin and guitar. Like many from Orkney his first language was Scots Gaelic, not English. He speaks both fluently, along with at least conversational French.

Morality

Good/ bad/ neutral/ other: Good-Neutral – Mostly a good person, believing in equality and freedom. He’s willing to get his hands dirty and sees violence as, sometimes, a viable solution to a problem.

Mutations

Mutation description: Psychic Constructs – Artair can project simple, solid weapons and move them within a field. They appear as 3D white outline’s but act as if solid. The general strength, when one weapon is created, is slightly harder than steel. He can increase their density and cutting power, however this drops the amount of time he can maintain them drastically. He can also create multiple constructs, with increased mental strain based on the size and density of the weapon. Simple mechanical weapons like crossbows can be made however it is more difficult and requires more energy. More mechanically complex weapons, for instance guns, are currently out of his ability to create. His power includes the ability to form shields.

Strengths:

· Maintaining a construct is easier than changing or creating it, increasing the length he can keep them out if need be.

· Can form simple crossbows and throwing weapons, adding ranged options to his repertoire.

· While the constructs are simple, he can change them on the fly, giving him a large range of options in a fight.

· Capable of forming moving weapons within his field, and throwing them out of it.

Weaknesses and Limitations:

· Limited to 3 “regular” sized weapons at any one time, which increases to 5 around the size of knives. He can try to push it past this but he very quickly exhausts himself physically and mentally.

· Can maintain a regular sized weapon for close to 20 minutes without pushing it and can be used like this 4-5 times a day given enough rest between. Pushing past the time limit reduces or nullifies his ability to use it more, and can even “short out” his power for a couple of days. Maintaining more constructs significantly reduces time.

· The more weapons he creates the weaker their hardness and strength, making it harder for them to pierce armoured targets and easier to break.

· The field he can move weapons around him is only 10 feet around him and any weapons thrown outside this area will dissipate after 10 seconds or if moved more than 30 feet away.

· Overuse causes severe migraines and blurred vision, progressing to nosebleeds and unconsciousness soon after.

Physical Abilities

General Physical Capabilities: Slightly higher than average fitness and strength, Artair is certainly faster than he is strong. He’s got decent stamina, able to exert himself for long periods of time.
Fighting Style: Moderate H.E.M.A training, Artair can easily hold his own against untrained fighters and at least not be beaten soundly by anyone with some training.
Fighting Style Pros/Cons: Mostly relies on weapons, with only a minimal amount bare fist training. His training is in a variety of weapons, so his ability is more akin to a jack of all trades.

History Of Your Character

Artair was born in Kirkwall on the island of Orkney off the north coast of Scotland. Before he could remember his dad had been the only parent he had, his mother having abandoned them when he was only 2 years old. Grew up in relative comfort, given that his dad was a doctor at the local hospital. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten to spend much time with his dad and spent most of his childhood at his aunt and uncles house rather than at home. This had suited him just fine giving him free rein to explore the hills and glens around his home town and gave him a solid independent streak from a young age. His cousins had already left home by the time he was born and because of the size of Orkney, he hadn’t had many friends. Most children had found him strange and prone to long bouts of silence.

Artairs’ life changed drastically however, when he turned 10. His dad had decided to take them fishing for his birthday, as a way form them to have a few days together, just the two of them. Things hadn’t gone as planned and a savage current had ripped the boat they’d hired further out than they’d planned and carried them straight into rough waters. Having known them to have been in a notoriously dangerous area his dad had desperately called for help via radio. The gods had other plans though and the boat was smashed against the rocks of a small, rocky island. Artairs body had been thrown hard onto the island and his last memory from that day was the sound of waves beating at the rocks. His broken body was found and he’d been rescued from the brink of death. It had taken multiple, extensive surgeries in order to fix the damage that had been done to him. His father on the other hand, had never been found.

He’d spent the next few months in a coma and the following year in recovery, rehabilitation and therapy. An unfortunate side effect of this incident was a deep and powerful phobia of being out on open water with even flying over enough to have put him on edge. After he’d finally being discharged from hospital and on a list of prescriptions longer then his arm, his aunt and uncle had taken him in and refused to use the money Artair’s dad had left behind. Instead they insisted it be put in an account he would access when he turned 18, stating it hadn’t been theirs to use. Following this incident, Artair had become even more withdrawn and had turned his attention more towards studies while he was undergoing the painful physical therapy. It was because of his dad’s death and his treatment in hospital that he’d been able to discover what he’d wanted to do with his life. He wanted to become a doctor, a choice that drove him to study hard and apply himself in every aspect of life. After he had most of his movement back he’d then taken up H.E.M.A, as a way to build up fitness.

The following years had passed as a blur for Artair. Between school, H.E.M.A and practicing instruments, he hadn’t had much time for any of the normal hobbies that a teenager usually has. During this time he hadn’t really formed any lasting friendships, and any relationships he’d had were superficial. The major remarkable event during this time was when he discovered his power. During a particularly intense sparring match against his instructor, he’d been disarmed. That was the moment he’d discovered that even when disarmed he’d always be well-armed. He’d managed to form the outline of a shield in his hand and blocked a blow meant to finish the match. It had only been there for an instant, and thanks to the bright lights he’d gotten away with no-one really seeing what had happened. It’s also when Artair discovered the side effects, when he’d promptly bleed from the nose and passed out. While no-one there had seen what happen clearly, Artair had always refused to believe he’d imagined it, and spent the next few years practicing his ability whenever his schedule permitted. While he’d been able to generally increase his ability to control and maintain his power, without formal training and the undisciplined and easily frustrated mind of a teenager, he’d never been able to increase his efficiency with his power.

When the time had come to apply for university, Artair leapt at the chance to study abroad. With his high grades and good endorsement from teachers and members of the community, he’d easily secured a deferred place at NYU to study medicine. Even though he’d applied after finishing school he started studying when he was 20, due to medical reasons. Before he’d finally left for university, his aunt and uncle had gifted him his ring, ‘To carry a wee bit of Scotland where ever he went’ they’d said. With this he’d turned his back on his home town and country, to maybe find somewhere he’d feel alive again.

Roleplay

What’s your OOC alias?: Khzar
Where did you learn about this site?: Serena/Emily
Do you have any other characters on MRO, if so who: Alice Rivers
Sample RP:

“So then Art, we going to talk or you going to dodge me again?” a very firm, very upset voice had said from behind Artair.

“I thought we had,” he replied turning to face Jenette, “We agreed that we don’t work.”

“Yeah, we don’t, so you fix the problems not run away to a bar to get wasted.” She’d given a pointed look around at Artairs choice in drinking companions and carried on regardless “Or is hanging out with these…… people how you’d rather spend your time.”

Artair had sighed and thought back on his first thoughts on meeting Jen. He cursed his younger, drunker self for once again getting him into a relationship he’d known would fail. Well, she had looked gorgeous that night, but dammit that’s no excuse.

“Look, Jen, we had fun right? We both know this had no future, so why get hung up on how it ends.”

Which might not have been the best choice of words however, as one moment a slightly irate, if beautiful girl had been giving him dirty looks. The next, his drink had been snatched away and thrown in his face. Being whiskey, it had burned his eyes like hellfire. Worse still is it’d cost him 6 dollars.

When his stinging vision had finally cleared Jen had already stormed out and the rest of the bar’s patrons had found this exchange terribly amusing. Torn between replacing the drink he’d hoped on finishing, or heading home, his decision was made when the bartender had firmly suggested he take his domestics outside.

Clearly that night wasn’t his night and, smelling like a collapsed distillery, he’d decided to head back to his dorm. When he’d stepped out the door and down the street, fate once again decided he hadn’t suffered enough and the heavens had burst open and thick, heavy rain had fallen.

“Perfect!” he’d sworn to himself, adding a few choice words in Gaelic for good measure. “Got anything more to throw at me today world!” The world, apparently had, when it was that moment an explosion rocked the night, followed by scattered gunfire.


“F***.”