Joining as Dimitri

[Sullivan]

Name: Dimitri Carthage II
Age: 17
Race: Saiyan
Sex: Male
Starting Planet: Earth
Profession: Mercenary
Fighting Style: Courageous
Short Bio: Born an illegitimate child and found as a tainted piece of his bloodline by his father, Dimitri was imprisoned in an insane asylum at a very young age. He was certainly not insane when he arrived there, but through constant environmental contact with insanity, a tad of it seems to have rubbed off on him. After his escape, his father issued a warrant for his arrest. He lives as a vagabond.
General Description:

Starting Abilities: Martial Arts Specialization and Inner Strength
Trait: Compassionate

* Strength - 35%
* Focus - 20%
* Endurance 25%
* Agility - 35%

Role-play Sample:

The haunting scent of death hovered in the air and stifled any feel good vibes that might have otherwise crept into the environment at the Royal Clinic for the Mentally Ill. If one paced its silent halls and peered past the barred windows to the containment cells, that person would find that Hell did, in fact, have an embodiment in the physical world; or at least, it did for the patients.

Within his office, Dimitri Carthage tossed a ball up and down to himself while listening to a radio broadcast. It was his quarters that received the best signal reception in the entire building, and for that reason and perhaps no other, that office belonged to Mr. Carthage.

At first glance, Mr. Carthage did not appear to be a particularly prestigious man - he dressed modestly enough, for certain, aside from the gleaming and polished metals that occasionally found their way onto his front breast pocket. He had short, spiky black hair like most saiyans, and the same coal black eyes that set no saiyan apart from another. It was instead the position he held at this clinic that made him a man to be respected, or feared; for Dimitri Carthage was the chairman at the Royal Clinic.

The program he was listening to baited a chuckle from Mr. Carthage. A chuckle, however, that was short lived as a knock on his door coaxed him into a scowl. With a derisive snort, Mr. Carthage placed his ball on his desk and rose to his feet, then proceeded to the door.

When he opened the door, one of his subordinates was standing across from him. It was in Mr. Carthage's nature to pick apart anyone who might have something to hide from him, and so, he scoured his inferior's face for any signs of weakness. The man seemed nervous. Maybe he was afraid for his job, since he was disturbing his boss?

"This had better be important," Mr. Carthage stated, preying at the man's weaknesses.

"Uh, sir -"

"Get to the point. Now."

"There's a patient, uh, goes by the name of Dimi and no other information is given on him. He seems to have gotten out of his cell. We dunno where he is, really..."

"What!?" Mr. Carthage bellowed.

His fury had been invoked. If it was a normal prisoner, maybe he could have let it slide and covered up the records, but this prisoner was no normal prisoner. In fact, for Mr. Carthage's own reputation, this would need to be dealt with in a fashion suited to its importance: by his own hand.

The chairman snatched his overcoat from a rack by his door and shoved his subordinate out of his way in a fluid motion, while his tail flitted nervously behind him. His footsteps were hasty and clumsy as he hurried down the hall, wound around the corner, took the stairs in twos...

When he entered the lobby, the guards were standing in bewilderment. The patients had been condemned to their cells while the problem was dealt with, it seemed. No doubt they weren't even informed that something was wrong. Just a drill...just a drill...

"Sir, Dimi has escaped," one of them stammered. The head guard. The only one of them who knew the severity of the situation.

"Shut it, before I shut it for you," Mr. Carthage spat. "Where? Where has he gone?"

"...left the capital city, we think. We have scouts trailing him."

"DAMNIT!"

Mr. Carthage's fist slugged a hole in the nearest wall.

"FIND HIM. NOW!"

---

With absent minded gusto, a boy in his late teens bounced across the harsh wilderness of Vegeta with a spring in his step. It was, perhaps, the first time in a very long while that Dimitri Carthage II had seen the light of day. Father had locked him away for a good long time when he had found that the boy was not his own child, rather, that his mother had birthed him as the result of an affair. The shame had been too much for Father to bear...so he imprisoned Little Dimi. Now, Little Dimi was all grown up and capable of overpowering guards. His escape had been swift and well executed.

Which was strange, for if his demeanor was observed extensively one would be led to believe that perhaps he belonged in a clinic for the mentally ill...the wide grin across his face at all moments and the way he seemed to never have a thought that wasn't happy may have been why the guards so easily bought into the lie that he was insane.

With nothing but the ragged clothes on his back, Dimitri Carthage II strayed into the wilderness.

---

With nothing but the proud name he clung to like a sinking ship, Dimitri Carthage I issued the warrant for the arrest of his son. Kill on sight.

[Alura]

Alright.