Post by concussion on Jan 4, 2013 0:56:06 GMT -4
The person behind the character:
Name/Nickname: Gemini
Age: 25
Experience: A long time
Contact information: PM
Character basics:
Real name: Robert Mervin Locksley, Lord of Dunedin in New Zealand
Code name: Concussion
Date of Birth: April 5th, 1990
Place of Birth: Dunedin, New Zealand
Age: 22
Known family:
The Reflection in the mirror:
Hair: Dirty blond and messy
Eyes: Use to be blue, now white due to blindness
Height: 6 feet even
Weight: 185 lb
Legal Status: Adult
Occupation: Owner of the Devil's Con (DC) Nightclub in Queens, New York
Affiliation: None for now
Abilities: Concussion is aptly named. The rings I mentioned before on his hands aren't mere tattoos. They are the source of one of his powers. He can produce various strengths of concussive blasts from those rings. From 'blowing' someone's hair back, to dusting cinder block walls. He can also adjust the focus of the cone because of the multiple rings. When they rev up, it is audible. It sounds much like Iron Man's repulsers or uni-bean charging up, but much quieter. The rings, which are usually black like a tattoo, glow bright neon blue; the brighter the light, the more powerful the charge. He can also dismiss the charge, without adverse effects if it's unneeded. He knows he was born with this power and he blames it for most of his problems. He isn't sure if he was born with his second power, and it was activated by certain events in his life, or if it was those events that gave it to him. He can see much in the same was as Dare Devil, but the amount of sound waves only clarifies his Audio Optics instead of distorting it like Dare Devil's. Concussion's auditory vision is also in black and white rather than blue and white like Dare Devil.
What's hidden behind the mask:
Personality:
What you get: To be absolutely truthful, he's not really a bad guy, just very cold and distant. He does enjoy good company of people who won't judge him. He does however despise the government, and I'm not sure anything could change his mind on that. If you can gain him, he is a very loyal friend. He will wine and dine your pants off "Well maybe not literally. Not on the first date anyway." Ah yes, and one more thing; he was recruited by the X-Men, but he turned them down.[/ul]
History: Concussion was born to Robert Mervin Locksley to Lady Helena Locksley and Lord Charles Locksley. They lived in New Zeeland in a lovely manor house overlooking an inlet. He virtually lived in the very lap of luxury until he was about nine years old. This was when his concussive powers surface. His parents where utterly shocked. How could this happen to them. Had they not been good Catholics, and didn't this only happen to other people and atheists? Why did their only son, and heir have to turn out to be a freak. They just couldn't abide by it, they couldn't have 'it' in their house. The called the government to come and collect him. Now they didn't call the New Zeeland government, who might have found a nice humane solution to this problem. Instead they called a corrupt foreign government who was known for dealing with mutant problems. Dark skinned men came to the house and put a mutant dampener on Robert and shoved him in a cage. He remembers being driven away, watching his mother cry, but his father's face was hard and showed no emotion. I'm not sure what Lord and Lady Locksley thought was going to happen to their son, but as he found out later from his mother, they never assumed he was to be sold into slavery.
The men took him to a top secret location where he was put into a specially designed container, and had the inhibitor removed. The next five years went by in a blur of pain and hunger as they trained him to use his powers in fights. They also trained him in hand to hand combat and knife fighting, but always with a remotely controlled inhibitor and shock device attached to his spine. While in this mad house prison, he met a girl. She didn't have a supper offensive ability, so he almost only saw her at meal times, or during free time; but they talked and got to know one another. She just so happens to be one of the reasons he never lets anyone else in, but he did say anything to her, and he will never admit it to anyone else. He always use to call her "Brainy" because she was really smart, but as a child he found it slightly annoying. As time went by however, Concussion thought 'Brainy' might be even more insulting than he had ever meant it to be and switched to Bri. He hasn't seen her since he was sold when he was 14 years old.
At the end of those five years he was sold to a wealthy man in India. This man did not participate in mutant fighting, but he did need a house servant. He didn't want Robert, who now had started calling himself Concussion, to run off and he couldn't have him shackled or anything like that, so he had Concussion blinded. They used wide beam lasers to etch away at all layers of his eyes under no anesthesia
But this story does not here, nor exactly unhappily. The boy was blind to be sure, but something gradually started to happen. At first Concussion thought it was just his brain playing tricks on him, and it wasn't very strong, but he noticed that in places where there was tons of noise, he thought he could see the outlines of things. Now Concussion had a lovely tenor singing voice, and his master liked for him to sing to him after dinner and at parties. It was at one of these parties that Concussion Auditory Sight power literally erupted in his brain. He was severely beaten later for stopping in the middle of a song, but for once he didn't care as much; those nerves where mostly dead anyway. The boy was ecstatic; after two years of darkness he could, in a way, finally see again. He didn't need to try hard to keep this new found freedom from his master since he now knew the layout of the house from memory, but he started humming little turns as he worked. This seemed to make his power more sensitive and finer details of things became clearer.
When Concussion was 18 he decided he had had enough of this life. His master had never bothered with an inhibitor on the promise the so much as a stray gust of wind on a windless day would get Concussion shot on the spot. Well he wasn't about to only use a small gust of wind. But first he had to take out the armed guards. He snuck up on them, one at a time, and assassinated them from behind while storing their bodies in one of the larger closest full of clothes. Once that dirty job was done her went to see his 'master'. "I did not call for you. Go and leave me before I call my guards," his master had said. "Fine, call them, see if I care. Today marks the last day I live in this God forsaken house of yours," Concussion had replied. He had used his words to mask the sound of him revving up his concussive blasts. He was going as strong and hard as he could get to in that time frame. The Indian man opened his mouth to call for the guards, but Concussion already had his hands up in front of him, palms out, and released the blast. The heavy set man's fat went all a jiggle when he was hit and he flew across the room into a marble pillar, cracking it slightly. But he never got up, he was dead on impact.
Concussion didn't linger in that place to gloat, he found out about an American Naval ship that was coming into port and asked to see the captain once it had. After hearing the story, the captain, against regulation, agreed to smuggle him to America. Once in New York, Concussion went to the task of trying to contact his mother. The image of her crying as he was taken away had never left his mind. His efforts were rewarded when he finally acquired the phone number to his old home in New Zealand and she picked up the phone. His father had died, leaving him a very sizable trust fund, but only on the wishes of his mother who had appeared to be dyeing at the time. The estate would also be left to him upon the Lady's death, which came when he turned 20. By then he had opened a successful nightclub called Devil's Con, or DC for short, in Queens. He tried to have his sight restored to normal, but there was nothing the best doctors money could buy could do for him. He now owns a home in Brooklyn and his family manor in New Zealand where he has hosted a few parties, and where he keeps his 'trophy' collection.
[/color] He motioned to his bouncers, at least one of which looked like former military, to bodily pick up the man and escort the lady. "Please, after you m'lady."[/color] He would fallow them up the stairs if she decided to comply at all. [/quote]
Code word: Armageddon
Name/Nickname: Gemini
Age: 25
Experience: A long time
Contact information: PM
Character basics:
Real name: Robert Mervin Locksley, Lord of Dunedin in New Zealand
Code name: Concussion
Date of Birth: April 5th, 1990
Place of Birth: Dunedin, New Zealand
Age: 22
Known family:
The Reflection in the mirror:
Hair: Dirty blond and messy
Eyes: Use to be blue, now white due to blindness
Height: 6 feet even
Weight: 185 lb
Legal Status: Adult
Occupation: Owner of the Devil's Con (DC) Nightclub in Queens, New York
Affiliation: None for now
Abilities: Concussion is aptly named. The rings I mentioned before on his hands aren't mere tattoos. They are the source of one of his powers. He can produce various strengths of concussive blasts from those rings. From 'blowing' someone's hair back, to dusting cinder block walls. He can also adjust the focus of the cone because of the multiple rings. When they rev up, it is audible. It sounds much like Iron Man's repulsers or uni-bean charging up, but much quieter. The rings, which are usually black like a tattoo, glow bright neon blue; the brighter the light, the more powerful the charge. He can also dismiss the charge, without adverse effects if it's unneeded. He knows he was born with this power and he blames it for most of his problems. He isn't sure if he was born with his second power, and it was activated by certain events in his life, or if it was those events that gave it to him. He can see much in the same was as Dare Devil, but the amount of sound waves only clarifies his Audio Optics instead of distorting it like Dare Devil's. Concussion's auditory vision is also in black and white rather than blue and white like Dare Devil.
What's hidden behind the mask:
Personality:
What you get: To be absolutely truthful, he's not really a bad guy, just very cold and distant. He does enjoy good company of people who won't judge him. He does however despise the government, and I'm not sure anything could change his mind on that. If you can gain him, he is a very loyal friend. He will wine and dine your pants off "Well maybe not literally. Not on the first date anyway." Ah yes, and one more thing; he was recruited by the X-Men, but he turned them down.[/ul]
History: Concussion was born to Robert Mervin Locksley to Lady Helena Locksley and Lord Charles Locksley. They lived in New Zeeland in a lovely manor house overlooking an inlet. He virtually lived in the very lap of luxury until he was about nine years old. This was when his concussive powers surface. His parents where utterly shocked. How could this happen to them. Had they not been good Catholics, and didn't this only happen to other people and atheists? Why did their only son, and heir have to turn out to be a freak. They just couldn't abide by it, they couldn't have 'it' in their house. The called the government to come and collect him. Now they didn't call the New Zeeland government, who might have found a nice humane solution to this problem. Instead they called a corrupt foreign government who was known for dealing with mutant problems. Dark skinned men came to the house and put a mutant dampener on Robert and shoved him in a cage. He remembers being driven away, watching his mother cry, but his father's face was hard and showed no emotion. I'm not sure what Lord and Lady Locksley thought was going to happen to their son, but as he found out later from his mother, they never assumed he was to be sold into slavery.
The men took him to a top secret location where he was put into a specially designed container, and had the inhibitor removed. The next five years went by in a blur of pain and hunger as they trained him to use his powers in fights. They also trained him in hand to hand combat and knife fighting, but always with a remotely controlled inhibitor and shock device attached to his spine. While in this mad house prison, he met a girl. She didn't have a supper offensive ability, so he almost only saw her at meal times, or during free time; but they talked and got to know one another. She just so happens to be one of the reasons he never lets anyone else in, but he did say anything to her, and he will never admit it to anyone else. He always use to call her "Brainy" because she was really smart, but as a child he found it slightly annoying. As time went by however, Concussion thought 'Brainy' might be even more insulting than he had ever meant it to be and switched to Bri. He hasn't seen her since he was sold when he was 14 years old.
At the end of those five years he was sold to a wealthy man in India. This man did not participate in mutant fighting, but he did need a house servant. He didn't want Robert, who now had started calling himself Concussion, to run off and he couldn't have him shackled or anything like that, so he had Concussion blinded. They used wide beam lasers to etch away at all layers of his eyes under no anesthesia
But this story does not here, nor exactly unhappily. The boy was blind to be sure, but something gradually started to happen. At first Concussion thought it was just his brain playing tricks on him, and it wasn't very strong, but he noticed that in places where there was tons of noise, he thought he could see the outlines of things. Now Concussion had a lovely tenor singing voice, and his master liked for him to sing to him after dinner and at parties. It was at one of these parties that Concussion Auditory Sight power literally erupted in his brain. He was severely beaten later for stopping in the middle of a song, but for once he didn't care as much; those nerves where mostly dead anyway. The boy was ecstatic; after two years of darkness he could, in a way, finally see again. He didn't need to try hard to keep this new found freedom from his master since he now knew the layout of the house from memory, but he started humming little turns as he worked. This seemed to make his power more sensitive and finer details of things became clearer.
When Concussion was 18 he decided he had had enough of this life. His master had never bothered with an inhibitor on the promise the so much as a stray gust of wind on a windless day would get Concussion shot on the spot. Well he wasn't about to only use a small gust of wind. But first he had to take out the armed guards. He snuck up on them, one at a time, and assassinated them from behind while storing their bodies in one of the larger closest full of clothes. Once that dirty job was done her went to see his 'master'. "I did not call for you. Go and leave me before I call my guards," his master had said. "Fine, call them, see if I care. Today marks the last day I live in this God forsaken house of yours," Concussion had replied. He had used his words to mask the sound of him revving up his concussive blasts. He was going as strong and hard as he could get to in that time frame. The Indian man opened his mouth to call for the guards, but Concussion already had his hands up in front of him, palms out, and released the blast. The heavy set man's fat went all a jiggle when he was hit and he flew across the room into a marble pillar, cracking it slightly. But he never got up, he was dead on impact.
Concussion didn't linger in that place to gloat, he found out about an American Naval ship that was coming into port and asked to see the captain once it had. After hearing the story, the captain, against regulation, agreed to smuggle him to America. Once in New York, Concussion went to the task of trying to contact his mother. The image of her crying as he was taken away had never left his mind. His efforts were rewarded when he finally acquired the phone number to his old home in New Zealand and she picked up the phone. His father had died, leaving him a very sizable trust fund, but only on the wishes of his mother who had appeared to be dyeing at the time. The estate would also be left to him upon the Lady's death, which came when he turned 20. By then he had opened a successful nightclub called Devil's Con, or DC for short, in Queens. He tried to have his sight restored to normal, but there was nothing the best doctors money could buy could do for him. He now owns a home in Brooklyn and his family manor in New Zealand where he has hosted a few parties, and where he keeps his 'trophy' collection.
Ty, Comcussin's top bartender had been the one to serve her the drink. Something about this woman had tipped him off that trouble might follow her, and he felt like he had confirmation when the man called her Domino but never looked at her and she replied in a similar manner. He pushed a small black button under the counter out of their line of sight. The button turned on micro phones that where calibrated to block out the music yet pick up conversations. There were multiple buttons under the bar the turned on mics in different places around the dance floor and bar area.
A bell tone sounded in Concussions dark wood paneled office. He looked up from his book and waited. A soft female voice spoke, telling him he was listening microphone array number seven. He smiled slightly and chuckled. What would the cities 'heroes' think if they knew he had gotten most of his high tech equipment from The Tinkerer. But seriously, who said only villains could buy equipment off the guy. He was a businessman, he just wasn't picky about who or where his money came from, and Concussion didn't need Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D bugging his bugs.
He listened to the dialogue between the two until he heard her toss the other guy to the ground. The bar room floor went dead quiet, and the DJ had stopped spinning tracks. Concussion walked to his office door, pulling a dark grey sport jacket on over his white shirt with the top few buttons undone. The sports coat was matched with his pants which ended in black leather dress casual shoes. He slipped on a pair of blue tinted glasses and walked out the door. He was just in time to hear her ask for whoever was in charge as he defended the stairs in the tense silence.
"I am in charge, but something tells me, it is not me whom you seek," he said in his clear ringing English accent as he hit the floor of the bar. The crowd parted for him as he approached the couple. "Perhaps instead of ruining my floors, we could move this conversation to my office."
A bell tone sounded in Concussions dark wood paneled office. He looked up from his book and waited. A soft female voice spoke, telling him he was listening microphone array number seven. He smiled slightly and chuckled. What would the cities 'heroes' think if they knew he had gotten most of his high tech equipment from The Tinkerer. But seriously, who said only villains could buy equipment off the guy. He was a businessman, he just wasn't picky about who or where his money came from, and Concussion didn't need Stark or S.H.I.E.L.D bugging his bugs.
He listened to the dialogue between the two until he heard her toss the other guy to the ground. The bar room floor went dead quiet, and the DJ had stopped spinning tracks. Concussion walked to his office door, pulling a dark grey sport jacket on over his white shirt with the top few buttons undone. The sports coat was matched with his pants which ended in black leather dress casual shoes. He slipped on a pair of blue tinted glasses and walked out the door. He was just in time to hear her ask for whoever was in charge as he defended the stairs in the tense silence.
"I am in charge, but something tells me, it is not me whom you seek," he said in his clear ringing English accent as he hit the floor of the bar. The crowd parted for him as he approached the couple. "Perhaps instead of ruining my floors, we could move this conversation to my office."
Code word: Armageddon