Post by spawn on Aug 15, 2008 19:47:00 GMT -5
The Character
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Canon or your own:Cannon
Copyright (Marvel/DC/ect):Dark Horse (DC affiliate)
Characters civilian name: N/A. once was Al Simmons
Code names/Aliases: Spawn
Class [Superhero, Vigilante, Mercenary..ect]: Vigilante
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Gender: Male
Age: 34
Apparent Age: N/A
Hair:none
Eyes:green
Height and weight: 6'4, 600 lbs
Appearance: Spawn is a ghost of a man. He is a specter. He is always found in his armor. The symbiotic uniform of hell is black with a white M across the chest. It has chains that go across his waist and along his shoulders. On his right shin he has a red spiked metal plate, he has a similar gauntlet on his left arm. Spawn also wears a billowing red cape. The cape, just like his armor is as much alive as he is. It has a shape shifting ability. It can take the form of anything that Spawn needs, whether it be weapons of vehicles.
Picture [if available]:
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Super Powers: Super human strength, agility, stamina. Control of hell fire abilities, regenerative healing factor
Learned Abilities: Master of hand to hand combat and all weapons, bladed and fire arms]
Equipment:Armor and cape, though his cape can form all sorts of weapons. Most often, Spawn chooses hell forged fire arms, or his double bladed ax
Weaknesses (Must Have): Though he is incredibly strong, Spawn can only take so much. He is not immortal and his powers have limits. after strenuous use, he must rest or he will die.
Background: Spawn was once a man by the name of Al Simmons. Simmons was born to be the perfect soilder in hell's army. He was a natural born killer and he excelled in the ranks of the military until he met Jason Wynn. Soon Simmons was working under Wynn as a covert. opps specicalist.
Simmons was a cold hard killer, his only weakness what so ever was his wife Wanda. Eventually Jason sold Simmons out to the masters of hell. Jason had Simmons killed and hell chose him as their hellspawn. Malbolgia, the ruler of the seventh level of hell, offered Simmons a deal. Simmons would trade his soul for one more chance to see his beloved wife, Wanda. Simmons readily agreed and was telaported back to earth. However, he was sent back as a burnt corpse wrapped in his bio-armor. Not only was his out appearance changed, Simmons was sent five years after his death. His wife had re-married to his best friend. Heart broken and ashamed, Simmons swore revenge on his new master.
After many misshapes and misadventures, including run ins with God the Devil and all the other deities of the world, Spawn killed his master. He had the potential to rule in hell as king, but he gave it to anther and was free of his pact. Now, Spawn wonders the world, searching for a calling, something more than just the killing and death he had known for so many years.
Personality: Spawn is a disturbed individual. Before his death, he was a cold hearted and merciless killer for hire. His one and only soft spot was his love for his wife, Wanda. He was the perfect soul to lead hell's army. Now, he is often confused and unsure if his actions are part of some preordained fate, or that of his own. Still, he tires to do the best he can, piecing together his former life, one newly acquired memory at a time. He is often times the unwilling or reluctant hero in whatever circumstances he finds himself in, in truth Al would much rather just curl into a trash heap and rot. But circumstances never seem to let him.
Other: I got nothin'
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Brief Sample Roleplay His cape billowed wildly in the wind. It waved back and forth, more like some kind of snake slithering along than any cloth floating in the wind. His feet were planted firmly on either side of the center bar that formed the cross atop the chapel. He felt at home here, atop the roof. His green eyes searching along the streets of Gotham. He still found it curious that he was most comfortable here, at a church of all places. He was after all a hellspawn, one of hell's warriors a general in hells army.
At least at some point he was. At some point he had been Al Simmons too. To be honest, Spawn wasn't sure what he was any more. "Just a freak." He said, cursing bitterly. What a foul trick life had played on poor unsuspecting Al Simmons. "Did I deserve this?" He asked, thinking aloud, "Does anyone deserve this hell?" He had no answer. Al Simmons had everything he had ever loved taken from him, now he was a husk of a man, skulking around rooftops pondering the deeper meanings of life and purpose.
As far as he could tell, he was lacking in both.
A shrill cry pierced the night air. His green eyes narrowed as he watch the scene below unfurl. A woman, who had found herself in the wrong side of town, was being mugged by two nameless scum bags. There was a time when Spawn would turn the other cheek, just walk away and let it happen. Not now. Not any more. Spawn was in a battle for his soul and he could not have the blood of an innocent on his conscience. He lunged for the next roof, gaining a better view.
"C'mon lady. Show us the goods." the thug said, brandishing a knife. He cut at her shirt, exposing one of her breasts." Oh yeah, that's it!" He said, his comrade had the woman rapped up around the waist. "Look lady, this only gonna hurt for a second, just let us have what we want. Screaming won't help you. There's no one gonna come for you darlin'." The other just laughed and started to pull at her pants. The first thug unbuckled his belt. "It'll be fun...I promised." She let out another shriek. It was muffled by her captor's hand. He put his other to his lips. "Shhh. I toll' ya, ain't no one gonna help you."
Behind the creep, two green flaming eyes flashed open. "There's me!" Spawn barked and his cape shot out from the pitch black wall he had hidden against. The thug shrieked in terror as he was pulled into the abyss. The creep left relinquished his hold on the woman, who dropped to the ground petrified, and brandished a fire arm. He shot three times into the dark. A voice that seemed to come from all sides taunted. "Have to do better than that." Then, in a flash and hand fell on the man's throat. Spawn squeezed, his mask peeled back, like flesh melting off his skull, revealing his own charred and blackened skin. "This will only hurt for a second!" He said before smashing the thugs head against the wall. the body went limp in his hand and he let it crash to the ground with a thud. He wasn't dead, but he wouldn't be getting up for a while either.
Spawn turned his attention towards the woman, his mask regrowing over his face. He extended his hand to her and gently picked her up. The gruff and harsh tones in his voice were gone. "Get yourself home. No one else will bother you tonight." she nodded and turned. She ran as fast as her legs would carry here. Spawn reached into his cape and produced a rope. He tied the two thugs together, lifted them up and put them out on the side of the street. "Cops'll pick you boys up soon enough. And if I EVER catch you pulling any more crap in my streets, I won't be so forgiving." With that, he leaped up to the nearby wall and climbed up the fire escape to the roof.
