05-28-2011, 11:04 PM
Name: Afreet Akuma
Age: 19
Race: Generic (Super Human)
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Vigilante
Fighting Style: Cunning
Short Bio: Craig Gooding was an average boy through his school days. He got just above average grades, never really applying himself to much of anything. He sailed through school, frustrating his teachers who knew of his latent potential. After finally graduating from his highschool, things began to change for Craig. His father died from a heart attack, and his only sister had moved half way across the world in pursuit of some guy none of the Goodings approved of. His mother remained however in the small suburban home that the Gooding family got their start.
He planned to enroll into university, however, another career found him first. This one offering protection, money, and security. The Red Ribbon Corporation seemed like it was recruiting boys exactly like Craig himself. He went to a small screening, the law enforcers staying close eyeing the youth with suspicion. Instantly, Craig found himself enamored with the Red Ribbon creedo, abiding by it as much as possible. He wore the outfit, the beige button up, blue or black pants and high boots. He cut off his long, unruly hair and wore it close cropped to his head to fit the beret when it was time. He appeared at a Red Ribbon recruitment office, and was recruited on the spot. 'Just what we're looking for!' the agent said with a sly grin. Damn... Craig wouldn't forget that crooked smile.
Boarding the next flight to Moscow, Craig was on his way to Red Ribbon headquarters to receive his special training before his admittance into the general forces. Taking a train from Moscow, he travelled another stop, hundreds of miles away where a Red Ribbon transport bus was waiting. In a matter of hours, Craig was lined up along with the other new recruits and filed into the registration building of Red Ribbon.
He was selected as group F. Craig should have ran when he could... That night, he was shown to his bunk, which he shared with another American named Lloyd. But Lloyd was very soon forgotten. In the morning, Craig was summoned before the commander of group F and received his duties. 'Travel to Infirmary 19-A and you will receive further orders.' Excitedly, Craig bounced towards the medical ward coming ever closer to his eventual demise.
Upon arriving, two doctors warmly greeted him and sat him down in a lab chair. 'Only blood tests.' They explained as Craig relaxed a bit. He let his guard down too soon because he ended up passing out soon after.
Waking up, everything was black, the air was hot and stale, and his breath was shallow. He couldn't speak and wasn't aware of where he was. He tried to move his hand but realized he was in some sort of a box. Buried alive he thought. He strained against the box gave way unusually easy. He pulled himself out of it to find himself in a dark cell, a cot and a sink against the wall. The lights suddenly came on revealing a one way mirror on the far wall. A voice came from somewhere about the room.
'You're up early!' it chirped delightfully. It was one of the doctors. 'Hm... Well, you should be changing rather soon. Now is your chance to think your last thoughts Mister...' the voice paused as the owner flipped through a clipboard. 'Gooding.' It said with a laugh as the speaker clicked off.
Craig demanded answers as he pounded both fists on the glass mirror. He realized there was no escape for him from the cell and a sharp pang erupted from his stomach. He dropped to his knees and grasped at his insides.
'Ah... That was a bit behind schedule. You just can't be on time!' the voice echoed as the human's vision began to blur and noises began to fade into the distance. He landed on his shoulder, groaning as his eyes began to water. He coughed and sputtered before blacking out a second time. That is the last of Craig Gooding.
- Weeks Later -
The two doctors took the stage, all eyes on them as legions of Red Ribbon soldiers and officials filled the stands. A heavy silence hung in the air as a projection screen slowly descended from the ceiling. Above, the projection turns on and begins to run, a soft whirring noise breaking the silence.
'Before Doctor Lawrence and I begin, we'd like for you to have a bit of an idea who Craig Gooding was before the procedure.' With that, he motioned to the board and the lights dimmed. It showed Craig in the recruiting office, his trip to Moscow, and his final voyage to Red Ribbon. The video came to an end just before he arrived at the infirmary. The crowd talked for a moment before the doctor took the stage again. He pulled his beard lightly as his eyes lit up. 'Clearly, we have an upstanding Red Ribbon member, and now... we shall present the Akuma strain that we have developed to train the ultimate soldiers!' The crowd clapped slowly as they drew in close to see what the effect of the 'Akuma' strain was on poor Gooding.
Wheels on a floorboard. *tik tik tik tik tik* as they crossed the tiny gaps. The lights were all centered on the two doctors, clenching their hands into such balls their knuckles turned white. Then the lights swept to right-center stage, revealing a limp looking Craig Gooding, his skin pale, his hair long and greasy. His eyes were sunk deep in his head and he wore an all black jumpsuit. His breathing was ragged and his movements jerky as he looked up to the crowd, his iris an unsettling orange. He opened his mouth to reveal two rows of pointed fangs and a long blackened tongue. The crowd gasped in shock as murmurs began to rise.
'Now now!' Lawrence said, trying to settle the crowd. 'He is virtually harmless to any Red Ribbon member. Besides, he's rather... tied down right now.' The crowd chuckled nervously as Craig jerked against his restraints. He growled and hissed, some in the front row claim to have heard him threaten to kill them all. 'Now.. we present to you... Afreet Akuma! The super soldier!'
Craig bowed his head, his teeth clenched until his jaw went numb. The air began to grow heavy and the doctors paused midsentence to look at their experiment. The ground shook softly, 'No-nothing to worry about!' One doctor said uneasily as he walked towards Craig trying to calm him down. As he drew close, Craig exploded, his restraints bursting like paper against his fury. With a swift punch the doctor was blown away, slamming into the podium, dead before he hit the ground. Then, an aura erupted from the genetic monster shredding the wooden stage. The observers began to flee and security took it's place.
The Akuma disease formed Afreet into the ultimate killing machine, however he was not equally blessed with the love of Red Ribbon. In fact, he knew only that he despised all that had to Red Ribbon, even the word itself made him feel angry. Indescribable rage over took him as he burst from the stage into the crowd that was now steaming out the doors. With super human strength he flung those in his way aside as he barreled through the door. Three bullets struck him in the back, however they barely phased him as his blood spattered on the ground. In the next instant, he seemed to materialize into the night, leaving no trace of his presence bar the memories of the observers and the dead doctor.
- Hours Later -
Afreet paused at last, he had no idea where he was, but he knew that nothing would stop him from getting his revenge on Doctor Lawrence and Red Ribbon. His bullet wounds had long been repaired, his body regenerating itself on over time, not even a scar remained. It seemed like he could run forever, and that's what it would take before he figured his plan out enough to exact his revenge. He continued to head south, eventually, he would wind up somewhere.
General Description:
Height: 6' 3"
Weight: 200 Pounds
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Orange
He wears a red top hat and a long red trench coat. Amber goggles adorn his face and he wears his hair about shoulder length, in a rather ungroomed manner. Beneath his trenchcoat is a black dress suit in addition to his polished leather boots. Silver buttons line the vest along with a silver pocket chain extending from right pocket to back right pocket. Finally, a black leather holster on either side of his belt holds two silver hand guns.
![[Image: hs_alucard133.jpg]](http://www.freewebs.com/yuekatiespictures/hs_alucard133.jpg)
Starting Abilities: Regeneration / Stealth
Trait: Tenacious
Stats:
• Strength - 10%
• Focus - 20%
• Endurance - 30%
• Agility - 40%
Role-play Sample: (minimum 300 words)
The gun was cold to his hand as he wrapped his long pale fingers around the butt, gripping it tightly in his palm. He began humming to a song where all but four words were remembered. As it came to the familiar verse, he spoke the words softly. "Another bites the dust..." The barrel prodded against the Red Ribbon officer's sweaty forehead. He was bound and gagged, thick ropes tied around his ankle and wrist, then knotted together making him rest awkward on his knees. The gag was his very own Red Ribbon arm band, held in place with a strip of tape. "I suppose I have a few last questions for you, to make your parting as peaceful as I can." He smirked as his thin lips peeled back to display his long, sharp teeth. "Well, just one. Any last words, worm?" He asked as he ripped the tape off the Red Ribbon officers face, leaving his lips raw. He blubbered for a moment as tears sprang to his eyes and rolled down his thin face. "Didn't think so." Afreet growled as he pulled the trigger spraying blood and gore on the floor beneath the man. The body remained upright for a moment before collapsing like a tree.
With a solid thump, the body settled. Carefully, he touched his finger tip to the wound and withdrew a decent sized droplet of blood. He ripped through the button up shirt and painted two red A's in similar design to Red Ribbons insignia on his chest. "More on their way master." He said as he holstered his weapon and looked skyward.
Age: 19
Race: Generic (Super Human)
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Vigilante
Fighting Style: Cunning
Short Bio: Craig Gooding was an average boy through his school days. He got just above average grades, never really applying himself to much of anything. He sailed through school, frustrating his teachers who knew of his latent potential. After finally graduating from his highschool, things began to change for Craig. His father died from a heart attack, and his only sister had moved half way across the world in pursuit of some guy none of the Goodings approved of. His mother remained however in the small suburban home that the Gooding family got their start.
He planned to enroll into university, however, another career found him first. This one offering protection, money, and security. The Red Ribbon Corporation seemed like it was recruiting boys exactly like Craig himself. He went to a small screening, the law enforcers staying close eyeing the youth with suspicion. Instantly, Craig found himself enamored with the Red Ribbon creedo, abiding by it as much as possible. He wore the outfit, the beige button up, blue or black pants and high boots. He cut off his long, unruly hair and wore it close cropped to his head to fit the beret when it was time. He appeared at a Red Ribbon recruitment office, and was recruited on the spot. 'Just what we're looking for!' the agent said with a sly grin. Damn... Craig wouldn't forget that crooked smile.
Boarding the next flight to Moscow, Craig was on his way to Red Ribbon headquarters to receive his special training before his admittance into the general forces. Taking a train from Moscow, he travelled another stop, hundreds of miles away where a Red Ribbon transport bus was waiting. In a matter of hours, Craig was lined up along with the other new recruits and filed into the registration building of Red Ribbon.
He was selected as group F. Craig should have ran when he could... That night, he was shown to his bunk, which he shared with another American named Lloyd. But Lloyd was very soon forgotten. In the morning, Craig was summoned before the commander of group F and received his duties. 'Travel to Infirmary 19-A and you will receive further orders.' Excitedly, Craig bounced towards the medical ward coming ever closer to his eventual demise.
Upon arriving, two doctors warmly greeted him and sat him down in a lab chair. 'Only blood tests.' They explained as Craig relaxed a bit. He let his guard down too soon because he ended up passing out soon after.
Waking up, everything was black, the air was hot and stale, and his breath was shallow. He couldn't speak and wasn't aware of where he was. He tried to move his hand but realized he was in some sort of a box. Buried alive he thought. He strained against the box gave way unusually easy. He pulled himself out of it to find himself in a dark cell, a cot and a sink against the wall. The lights suddenly came on revealing a one way mirror on the far wall. A voice came from somewhere about the room.
'You're up early!' it chirped delightfully. It was one of the doctors. 'Hm... Well, you should be changing rather soon. Now is your chance to think your last thoughts Mister...' the voice paused as the owner flipped through a clipboard. 'Gooding.' It said with a laugh as the speaker clicked off.
Craig demanded answers as he pounded both fists on the glass mirror. He realized there was no escape for him from the cell and a sharp pang erupted from his stomach. He dropped to his knees and grasped at his insides.
'Ah... That was a bit behind schedule. You just can't be on time!' the voice echoed as the human's vision began to blur and noises began to fade into the distance. He landed on his shoulder, groaning as his eyes began to water. He coughed and sputtered before blacking out a second time. That is the last of Craig Gooding.
- Weeks Later -
The two doctors took the stage, all eyes on them as legions of Red Ribbon soldiers and officials filled the stands. A heavy silence hung in the air as a projection screen slowly descended from the ceiling. Above, the projection turns on and begins to run, a soft whirring noise breaking the silence.
'Before Doctor Lawrence and I begin, we'd like for you to have a bit of an idea who Craig Gooding was before the procedure.' With that, he motioned to the board and the lights dimmed. It showed Craig in the recruiting office, his trip to Moscow, and his final voyage to Red Ribbon. The video came to an end just before he arrived at the infirmary. The crowd talked for a moment before the doctor took the stage again. He pulled his beard lightly as his eyes lit up. 'Clearly, we have an upstanding Red Ribbon member, and now... we shall present the Akuma strain that we have developed to train the ultimate soldiers!' The crowd clapped slowly as they drew in close to see what the effect of the 'Akuma' strain was on poor Gooding.
Wheels on a floorboard. *tik tik tik tik tik* as they crossed the tiny gaps. The lights were all centered on the two doctors, clenching their hands into such balls their knuckles turned white. Then the lights swept to right-center stage, revealing a limp looking Craig Gooding, his skin pale, his hair long and greasy. His eyes were sunk deep in his head and he wore an all black jumpsuit. His breathing was ragged and his movements jerky as he looked up to the crowd, his iris an unsettling orange. He opened his mouth to reveal two rows of pointed fangs and a long blackened tongue. The crowd gasped in shock as murmurs began to rise.
'Now now!' Lawrence said, trying to settle the crowd. 'He is virtually harmless to any Red Ribbon member. Besides, he's rather... tied down right now.' The crowd chuckled nervously as Craig jerked against his restraints. He growled and hissed, some in the front row claim to have heard him threaten to kill them all. 'Now.. we present to you... Afreet Akuma! The super soldier!'
Craig bowed his head, his teeth clenched until his jaw went numb. The air began to grow heavy and the doctors paused midsentence to look at their experiment. The ground shook softly, 'No-nothing to worry about!' One doctor said uneasily as he walked towards Craig trying to calm him down. As he drew close, Craig exploded, his restraints bursting like paper against his fury. With a swift punch the doctor was blown away, slamming into the podium, dead before he hit the ground. Then, an aura erupted from the genetic monster shredding the wooden stage. The observers began to flee and security took it's place.
The Akuma disease formed Afreet into the ultimate killing machine, however he was not equally blessed with the love of Red Ribbon. In fact, he knew only that he despised all that had to Red Ribbon, even the word itself made him feel angry. Indescribable rage over took him as he burst from the stage into the crowd that was now steaming out the doors. With super human strength he flung those in his way aside as he barreled through the door. Three bullets struck him in the back, however they barely phased him as his blood spattered on the ground. In the next instant, he seemed to materialize into the night, leaving no trace of his presence bar the memories of the observers and the dead doctor.
- Hours Later -
Afreet paused at last, he had no idea where he was, but he knew that nothing would stop him from getting his revenge on Doctor Lawrence and Red Ribbon. His bullet wounds had long been repaired, his body regenerating itself on over time, not even a scar remained. It seemed like he could run forever, and that's what it would take before he figured his plan out enough to exact his revenge. He continued to head south, eventually, he would wind up somewhere.
General Description:
Height: 6' 3"
Weight: 200 Pounds
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Orange
He wears a red top hat and a long red trench coat. Amber goggles adorn his face and he wears his hair about shoulder length, in a rather ungroomed manner. Beneath his trenchcoat is a black dress suit in addition to his polished leather boots. Silver buttons line the vest along with a silver pocket chain extending from right pocket to back right pocket. Finally, a black leather holster on either side of his belt holds two silver hand guns.
Starting Abilities: Regeneration / Stealth
Trait: Tenacious
Stats:
• Strength - 10%
• Focus - 20%
• Endurance - 30%
• Agility - 40%
Role-play Sample: (minimum 300 words)
The gun was cold to his hand as he wrapped his long pale fingers around the butt, gripping it tightly in his palm. He began humming to a song where all but four words were remembered. As it came to the familiar verse, he spoke the words softly. "Another bites the dust..." The barrel prodded against the Red Ribbon officer's sweaty forehead. He was bound and gagged, thick ropes tied around his ankle and wrist, then knotted together making him rest awkward on his knees. The gag was his very own Red Ribbon arm band, held in place with a strip of tape. "I suppose I have a few last questions for you, to make your parting as peaceful as I can." He smirked as his thin lips peeled back to display his long, sharp teeth. "Well, just one. Any last words, worm?" He asked as he ripped the tape off the Red Ribbon officers face, leaving his lips raw. He blubbered for a moment as tears sprang to his eyes and rolled down his thin face. "Didn't think so." Afreet growled as he pulled the trigger spraying blood and gore on the floor beneath the man. The body remained upright for a moment before collapsing like a tree.
With a solid thump, the body settled. Carefully, he touched his finger tip to the wound and withdrew a decent sized droplet of blood. He ripped through the button up shirt and painted two red A's in similar design to Red Ribbons insignia on his chest. "More on their way master." He said as he holstered his weapon and looked skyward.
![[Image: Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Viper-Adjusted-Mini-Sig.png)
![[Image: Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v308/OBLCDiomedes/Recent%20Signatures/Trixie-Mini-Sig-Fixed.png)