NAME: Kixx
POWERS: INV/SS
ORIGIN: Mutation
All his life, Kixx has been alone. He doesnt remember his parents, or his early childhood. What he does remember begins around age five, on a rainy night, somewhere in Kings Row, clutching his right hand as fiery pain shot up his arm, huddling to keep warm from the freezing rain. He was discovered the next day, in shock, on the steps of an apartment complex. A close examination of his right hand revealed the word Kixx branded deeply in the flesh. His memory locked away by the trauma, the boy took on the simple name and answered to no other.
Thrown into a child-care services institution, Kixx rapidly clashed with the authority and was beaten for his insolence by the ill-tempered staff. As he reached his sixth year, he began to openly rebel against the Director, whom he considered a step below the devil. An over-zealous janitor took it upon himself to teach Kixx a lesson
with a whip and club. It took Kixx a month to get out of the hospital, and when he did, it was with a plan.
Around his seven birthday, he and two other boys broke out of the foster home and headed for Kings Row.
The three friends survived in the streets, stealing what they could, living in a small alcove in the sewers during the summer, and breaking into a church on Paper Street to sleep during the winter. They took to calling their gang the Paper Street Heroes, as a joke. This was a city of heroes, but poor kids like themselves were ignored, left to etch out a meager survival. If we had superpowers, we wouldnt be forgotten.
In the following summer, one of the boys joined the Skulls, in an effort to get more food. The Skulls protection racket earned him money and power, and it wasnt long until he convinced the other boy to join as well. Kixx would have none of it, though. He was a thief and he knew it, but he never physically hurt anyone. The Skulls had a habit of hospitalizing people and more than one person who refused their services wound up dead. His conscious wouldnt allow it.
The Paper Street Heroes was down to one. But he made new friends on the basketball court, and near Immigrant Alley. He was a poor boy living with poor immigrants, all of them searching for the American dream. None of them questioned his ripped and old clothes, his filthy skin, the fact he was half-starved. He was just Kixx, a 9-year old kid on the basketball court. He established a meager balance in his life, between the street and his friends.
On his tenth birthday, his universe was unbalanced. He was dribbling the ball toward the basket when a massive shadow fell upon him. He turned to catch the punch on his right cheek. The blow was enough to shatter his jaw, and he put his front teeth through his lower lip. Blood splattered on the pavement, and unconsciousness threatened to claim him. The other kids screamed and ranhe was aware of this somehow.
A rough voice assaulted his ears, difficult to make out through the ringing, Happy 10th Birthday, punk! One brand wasnt enough. Ill see you every five years and every time, Ill remind the world youre mine. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. Then he saw a gloved hand descend on him. On the ring finger was a silver band of a dragon eating its own tail. Then the gloved fingers plunged into his right eye socket and ripped his eye out. Kixx screamed as a red fire exploded in his skull and fell into unconsciousness, never truly seeing his attacker.
He awoke hours later, in the hospital. His left eye wouldnt focus and a herd of elephants trampled on his brain. He shut his eyelids and cried at the injustice of the world. It wasnt fair, he thought as tears rolled down his left check. He fell into an uneasy sleep, not caring what the hospital would do to him or where they would send him. Nothing mattered anymore, he reflected before the nightmares claimed him.
He screamed when he woke up, some days later. His left eye opened and focused on the clock: 11:23. It was dark outside the hospital rooms window. Must be night, he thought to himself. He was aware of a bandage covering his mutilated eye. Then he glanced down at his hand.
It was purple. He blinked once and looked again. It was still purple. Frowning, he moved his right hand into view. It was purple as well, like an angry bruise. He sat up, aware of his hair falling down. Wait a second, his hair wasnt that long. Somehow, his hair was falling out of his head. Could it be a side-effect of some medicine they had him on? As he moved his hands over toward the observation window in his room, he noticed they were a light shade of violet. Violet?
He broke out of the hospital 20 minutes later and returned to the Church on Paper Street. Over the next week, his skin darkened rapidly, becoming a royal purple hue. But it was hardening, as well. His remaining eyes vision sharpened, and his other senses became acute. He lost all body hair, save for his eyebrows, and a beard that began to grow in thick and full.
He hid himself. The Church was no longer a sanctuary. A small ten year old boy could hide himself easily in the large, gothic structure. But Kixx was growing, becoming taller and wider. His clothes wouldnt fit him any more and so he had to steal a robe from the Church. He knew what he was; in a city of heroes, it was hard not to identify his symptoms. He was mutating.
His strength was incredible. He waited until nightfall, then went out and lifted a semi-truck, minus trailer. He didnt feel the cold anymore, nor heat. It had to be an excessive amount, as he discovered sleeping near the Churchs furnace, for his skin to register it. His stamina was amazing; he could remain awake for up to week before needed 48 hours to recover. He never got winded, or tired physically. He could jump over two hundred feet into the air, and cover a quarter of a mile in a horizontal jump with proper speed. It took three weeks to master a landing, but he really didnt feel the impact anyway.
He wandered Kings Row at night. And one night, he found it, on Paper Street, far from the Church, almost on the other side of the Row. The library was in ruins, tagged by the Skulls as theirs. A massive stone structure, it had been abandoned by the city for a better location. The roof was in poor shape, and the front doors had been smashed in. A good majority of the books had been left where they rested, never packed up. Kixx fell in love with the building immediately.
Thus, he went in and drove the Skulls out. The main floor was weakened during their battle, and would no longer support his weight. But the basement was deep and he could fit just fine. He could listen to the librarys collection of classical music on a discarded CD player, and pick from several hundred paperback editions of numerous subjects. He hid in his library and survived, venturing out only at night for food.
By his 11th birthday, he stood 8 feet and weighted in about 800 pounds, all of it solid muscle. He was educating himselfphilosophy, history, and music were his loves and he soaked up the knowledge as quickly as he could. Every once in a while, he would steal a newspaper and read about current events. But mostly he kept himself away from the populace, fearing rejection.
Then one day he awoke to the sound of an explosion. He quickly exited his library to see a herd of strange creatures appear on the corner. Giant spaceships hovered high over the city and bolts of energy filled the sky. Someone screamed Invasion! and Kixx took it all in with his good eye. And then a bolt descended from the heavens and blew the front of the library apart. Kixx roared his rage to the sky and a red haze covered him.
Kixx remembered coming to hours later, his hands covered in the aliens blood. Broken bodies and torn limbs surrounded him. He stared at shock at the chaos below him, and then he heard the applause. Dozens of citizens were surrounding him, and congratulating his bravery. He fled the scene as soon as he could, returning to find the Library mostly intact. He sat most of the Rikti war out.
Two days later, a cyborg entered the Library, searching for an alien that escaped the war. A week later, the Foundation taga stylized pillar shaped like an Iappeared on several alley walls and marked protection for the Church on Paper Street, the Library, and Immigrant Alley.
