((This was the first attempt I'd made at writing for a character. The divisions were originally seperate posts on my SG forums... Tell me how I did ))
He couldn't remember anything before waking up in the hospital, the ventilator breathing for his scorched lungs. But memory has a way of visiting us, in his dreams there was fire.
All around him there were flames, though they didn't burn his flesh. There was also a frightening pink glow around his hands, and when he reached for the car door is receded from the glow, crumpling away from his hands. Growing frustrated he struck out at the door, finally freeing himself as reaching for the handle could not, the door flew off it's hinges. out into the darkness he looked back, the flaming car loomed near him. Stumbling backward he bumped into the truck, a tanker, large and on it's side. The flames encompassing him ignited the spilled fuel and terror gripped him as he watched them approach the truck.
Awakening with a start, a gasp caught in his throat and distorted by his mask, this cursed thing he was forced to wear always. Granis looked around, momentarily confused by the darkness, then he remembered the dream. He'd had it countless times, recalling the doctor's words "We don't know how he survived, the only harm seems to be his lungs. The flames didn't touch his skin, but he inhaled them and I'm afraid he'll need the apparatus we've constructed for him for the rest of his life." The damned mask, he clutched his head in his hands, shaking with silent sobs that seemed so unfitting for a man his size.
He knew the story, he had read it in the papers after the fact. Experimental chemicals, a driver logging too many hours, just trying to put his girls through college. The driver had crashed on a curve in the highway, the car didn't stand a chance, neither had his parents. The explosion had rocked the night. Miles around people heard it, surely no one could survive, but he had, even with his scorched lungs, he was indeed alive.
-----------
Granis was smiling, he didn't do that much, it pulled at the ventilator. Actually, he smiled more these days, caught up in the destruction he was allowed to bring about as a member of Paragon City Search And Destroy. There were others like him, feeding off combat and seeking more the longer they fought. But there was a fundamental difference, they fed off the anger of combat, while he relished it, a maniacal glee gripped him when he was smashing things. No one could tell this of course, his mask hid the smile, though he seriously considered getting one of those Grin masks he'd seen around, wouldn't that be ironic? He had spent some time reminiscing, too much some said, his childhood wasn't a happy one.
After awakening in the hospital, his parents dead, his past forgotten, he became a ward of the state. Orphanage to orphanage, one foster home after another, no one wanted a 10 year old kid who couldn't breathe right. In fact, he scared them with his rasping breaths through his ventilator, it wasn't his fault of course, but they shied away nonetheless. After years of rejection he gave up, he was 18 now (they guessed, it had been 8 years since his accident) so the system forgot him. Wandering the streets wasn't any better than the orphanage, but at least when people gasped at the sight of him he could smirk to himself about it, he had no one to impress out here.
One night while walking he wandered into a gang fight, disputed territory in the park. He smiled a bit to himself and set himself on fire, as his hands took on their pinkish glow (god he hated that, he wished he could change the color) one of the hellions threw a Molotov cocktail into the fight. Smirking, he knew the fire wouldn't hurt him and dove in, bashing the skulls first because he knew they were easier prey for him, and more dangerous. The hellions relied on fire for their fights, he could handle that, his flaming hide absorbed most of the heat. The skulls however used a darker sort of attacks, but they were also hurt more by his glow, he took glee from their cries of agony that tore through the night before his fists even made contact with their faces.
After the skulls he had planned on turning on the hellions, but their leader, a Damned named Marius (he said) extended his hand to Granis. Confused he looked them over with squint eyed suspicion, wondering if this was a trap. Marius took his hand, the corners of his demonic mask turning up slightly "That was some show kid, you have an affinity for fire?" looking down at himself, the flames rolling over his skin Granis wondered if the guy was stupid. "You could say that, I guess" the smile on the damned broadened "Well, maybe we could offer you a place here, we're all about fire and destruction."
Granis had found it, a sense of family he'd never had, here, among the hellions, his path was taking shape.
--------
Join the Hellions, why hadn't he thought of that sooner? Probably because all he ever saw them doing was mugging little old ladies, big deal tough guys. But when he was an insider he saw more, and he knew this was a place for him. Rising quickly through their ranks was easy, he was a walking lighter for their firebombs so they had him along often on their arsons. Among the Damned rank was determined not by how well you could light a torch, but by combat ability, he shook his head at his opponents, they all used fire attacks when they all knew that fire didn't hurt them as much because of the pacts they had made with the demons. He on the other hand used his fists and their glow, destroying his opponents mercilessly, eventually he was second in command under one they called Gregor. Marius had indeed been foolish, earning his rank as a Damned only because he had a pact already with the demon kind, Granis took much pleasure in pummeling him into a broken and bleeding mass.
Gregor however was a smart one, always planning how to double cross someone, usually these schemes involved Granis and his fists, he never saw his own downfall coming. The heroes came and went, Granis could beat them, one, two, even three at a time, novices hoping to get lucky by bringing him in. But those days were over the night Gregor sent him to that warehouse "to punish another of our own" he had said. Eight of them came, the heroes were prepared, as much as he tried to turn his attention off the hulking mass of granite, he could not, knew he must if he was to win, but could not. They captured him that night, and told him the contact that sent them had been tipped off by his coconspirator Gregor, that they had been warned to come prepared and so they had. All that was left for him was the Zig.
Locked in a cage, like an animal, what kind of fate was this? He hated it, as you could imagine anyone would, they kept him bound tightly so he couldn't smash the door off his cell, he had done it repeatedly. Though he was allowed in the yard it was always under the watchful gaze of about two dozen guards. He did meet a few people though, one that called himself Nemesis Antaris, not really a person, but a robot. Nem (as the inmates took to calling him) spoke of a man, once a hero but no longer, who was rallying those around him hoping for the strongest out there to help him get his vengeance. Granis was interested, but found it difficult to trust another so soon, when Arachnos came he struck off on his own in the isles.
--------------
Granis was alone in the isles, wandering through them, doing tasks for the contacts that were looking for a little muscle. They paid well, but he was always wary, looking for any sign that his next mission might be a double-cross. His trust wasn't easy to earn anymore, Gregor had made sure of that.
Then, one day when he was in the place they called Bloody Bay, looking to test himself against a few of Paragon's 'Heroes' he saw them, a group of 'Destroyers' they called themselves, Status Crow's cadre. Following from a distance he could tell their members from the uniforms they wore, Gunmetal and orange, not his personal choice but not a bad one by any means. Then he saw the man himself, though not nearly as large as Granis he possessed a certain power all his own, and his leadership abilities were evident as he flew self-assuredly over the battle scene. Status Crow, so this was the man that Nem had told him of, it was apparent that he was looked up to and very much trusted by his members, they followed his commands without a moment's hesitation, then Granis spotted Nem among them, a large robot stuffed into human clothes, what a sight that was!
Granis was watching the fighting, it was escalating quickly as the heroes called in more support from Paragon, then he spotted a blaster, hovering maybe 100 feet above the Destroyers, he was taking aim at Nem who was all but oblivious to his presence, summoning and equipping his robots as they fell in battle. He couldn't have that. some 'Hero' shooting an oblivious foe in the back. Granis jumped at the blaster, slamming his fists over his head and into the blaster's face, stunning him and dropping him from the sky. When the blaster almost landed on top of a small German boy Granis laughed out loud at the kid's reaction, he must have jumped a foot before sicking an entire pack of his own robots on the 'Hero' dispatching him quickly.
This was a skilled group, Granis could see that, they interacted well, and reacted quickly to incoming threats, he was interested, and decided he'd watch them for a while longer, perhaps determining if this was a place he wanted to be.
------------
Granis had been watching them, these 'Destroyers' for nearly a month now, he found it interesting that whenever they came to Bloody Bay the heroes started pouring in. One group in particular seemed to have some vendetta against Status Crow. Their taunts filled the air as they stood feet from the arachnos base. Hordes of them mocking the outnumbered and overpowered villains. This enrages Granis as little else could. These people called themselves Heroes? The fancied themselves protectors? This behavior was more suited to the patrons of Arachnos than to those who claimed to fight for the innocent.
He took a week. Removing his armor, revealing the hideous burnt flesh beneath, he stole into Paragon. To a place he had been to several times in the past. He knew he would find no solace here, he didn't even really know them, but as he ran his fingers over the stones bearing their names he felt numb. These people had given him life. He had flashes now and then when he slept, Dreams of the life he had once known. He was built like his father who had dark, almost black hair and penetrating eyes. His mother with her Fiery red mane and clearest blue eyes the color of the sky, she had been so beautiful. He saw them smiling over him, but even in his dreams he didn't truly know them, he had once had his father's eyes. Now they were darkened by his rage, His mother had given him her hair, though he kept it trimmed short the resemblance was unmistakable. He closed his eyes trembling slightly as he traced the letters he had memorized years before. He knew he'd be weeping if he was still able to do so.
"I'm sorry" he said, his voice thicker than usual. "I have to do this, they are so self righteous and they think themselves above everyone. If I don't work against them, who will? Status has the right idea, they've become corrupted and I won't stand for it." Placing his palm flat against his mother's name he whispered "Please don't think less of me for choosing this path, I won't be back again, they won't let me back, I'm sorry." With that he stood, turning his back on the stones for the last time, he hoped that those they represented wouldn't turn their backs to him as he leapt across the place he had once called home.
Passing through the neighborhoods he knew were the worst, half hoping for a fight. That was when he saw the 'Flash' of shadow. There really wasn't any other way to describe it, There were several clockwork on a fire escape that were suddenly engulfed in darkness coming from the window. Peering inside he saw a bespectacled boy who couldn't have been more than 10. Granis blinked at the boy, seeing himself for an instant, then shaking his head he muttered to himself bitterly "So, where are all the heroes then?" With that comment echoing through his head he launched himself up to the window, dispatching the clockwork there quickly. Grinning to himself over how much stronger he was now than he had been when he'd lived here. When he turned to the boy he saw himself again. He reached out and the boy came to him.
"What's your name kid?" he asked, trying to make his voice less fearsome than usual. "G-Garrett" the boy said quietly. Glancing around the room Granis spotted 2 charred masses and willed himself to not think about his own parents. "You're coming with me kiddo" he said "I'll take you somewhere safe" nodding slowly Garrett looked Granis over slowly and smiled slightly as he allowed himself to be lifted onto his shoulder. "Are you fast?" he asked "Daddy was real fast" Granis looked sideways at the kid "Oh?" Nodding slightly he said "Mommy could fly too, I hope I can learn to fly" Granis smirked at him "We're gonna be alright kid, everything will be alright, now hold on." They climbed out the window and were at the top of the building in a single leap. Then quickly Granis took him across the city to the ship that would take them back to the Rogue Isles.
((This was the first attempt I'd made at writing for a character. The divisions were originally seperate posts on my SG forums... Tell me how I did
))
He couldn't remember anything before waking up in the hospital, the ventilator breathing for his scorched lungs. But memory has a way of visiting us, in his dreams there was fire.
All around him there were flames, though they didn't burn his flesh. There was also a frightening pink glow around his hands, and when he reached for the car door is receded from the glow, crumpling away from his hands. Growing frustrated he struck out at the door, finally freeing himself as reaching for the handle could not, the door flew off it's hinges. out into the darkness he looked back, the flaming car loomed near him. Stumbling backward he bumped into the truck, a tanker, large and on it's side. The flames encompassing him ignited the spilled fuel and terror gripped him as he watched them approach the truck.
Awakening with a start, a gasp caught in his throat and distorted by his mask, this cursed thing he was forced to wear always. Granis looked around, momentarily confused by the darkness, then he remembered the dream. He'd had it countless times, recalling the doctor's words "We don't know how he survived, the only harm seems to be his lungs. The flames didn't touch his skin, but he inhaled them and I'm afraid he'll need the apparatus we've constructed for him for the rest of his life." The damned mask, he clutched his head in his hands, shaking with silent sobs that seemed so unfitting for a man his size.
He knew the story, he had read it in the papers after the fact. Experimental chemicals, a driver logging too many hours, just trying to put his girls through college. The driver had crashed on a curve in the highway, the car didn't stand a chance, neither had his parents. The explosion had rocked the night. Miles around people heard it, surely no one could survive, but he had, even with his scorched lungs, he was indeed alive.
-----------
Granis was smiling, he didn't do that much, it pulled at the ventilator. Actually, he smiled more these days, caught up in the destruction he was allowed to bring about as a member of Paragon City Search And Destroy. There were others like him, feeding off combat and seeking more the longer they fought. But there was a fundamental difference, they fed off the anger of combat, while he relished it, a maniacal glee gripped him when he was smashing things. No one could tell this of course, his mask hid the smile, though he seriously considered getting one of those Grin masks he'd seen around, wouldn't that be ironic? He had spent some time reminiscing, too much some said, his childhood wasn't a happy one.
After awakening in the hospital, his parents dead, his past forgotten, he became a ward of the state. Orphanage to orphanage, one foster home after another, no one wanted a 10 year old kid who couldn't breathe right. In fact, he scared them with his rasping breaths through his ventilator, it wasn't his fault of course, but they shied away nonetheless. After years of rejection he gave up, he was 18 now (they guessed, it had been 8 years since his accident) so the system forgot him. Wandering the streets wasn't any better than the orphanage, but at least when people gasped at the sight of him he could smirk to himself about it, he had no one to impress out here.
One night while walking he wandered into a gang fight, disputed territory in the park. He smiled a bit to himself and set himself on fire, as his hands took on their pinkish glow (god he hated that, he wished he could change the color) one of the hellions threw a Molotov cocktail into the fight. Smirking, he knew the fire wouldn't hurt him and dove in, bashing the skulls first because he knew they were easier prey for him, and more dangerous. The hellions relied on fire for their fights, he could handle that, his flaming hide absorbed most of the heat. The skulls however used a darker sort of attacks, but they were also hurt more by his glow, he took glee from their cries of agony that tore through the night before his fists even made contact with their faces.
After the skulls he had planned on turning on the hellions, but their leader, a Damned named Marius (he said) extended his hand to Granis. Confused he looked them over with squint eyed suspicion, wondering if this was a trap. Marius took his hand, the corners of his demonic mask turning up slightly "That was some show kid, you have an affinity for fire?" looking down at himself, the flames rolling over his skin Granis wondered if the guy was stupid. "You could say that, I guess" the smile on the damned broadened "Well, maybe we could offer you a place here, we're all about fire and destruction."
Granis had found it, a sense of family he'd never had, here, among the hellions, his path was taking shape.
--------
Join the Hellions, why hadn't he thought of that sooner? Probably because all he ever saw them doing was mugging little old ladies, big deal tough guys. But when he was an insider he saw more, and he knew this was a place for him. Rising quickly through their ranks was easy, he was a walking lighter for their firebombs so they had him along often on their arsons. Among the Damned rank was determined not by how well you could light a torch, but by combat ability, he shook his head at his opponents, they all used fire attacks when they all knew that fire didn't hurt them as much because of the pacts they had made with the demons. He on the other hand used his fists and their glow, destroying his opponents mercilessly, eventually he was second in command under one they called Gregor. Marius had indeed been foolish, earning his rank as a Damned only because he had a pact already with the demon kind, Granis took much pleasure in pummeling him into a broken and bleeding mass.
Gregor however was a smart one, always planning how to double cross someone, usually these schemes involved Granis and his fists, he never saw his own downfall coming. The heroes came and went, Granis could beat them, one, two, even three at a time, novices hoping to get lucky by bringing him in. But those days were over the night Gregor sent him to that warehouse "to punish another of our own" he had said. Eight of them came, the heroes were prepared, as much as he tried to turn his attention off the hulking mass of granite, he could not, knew he must if he was to win, but could not. They captured him that night, and told him the contact that sent them had been tipped off by his coconspirator Gregor, that they had been warned to come prepared and so they had. All that was left for him was the Zig.
Locked in a cage, like an animal, what kind of fate was this? He hated it, as you could imagine anyone would, they kept him bound tightly so he couldn't smash the door off his cell, he had done it repeatedly. Though he was allowed in the yard it was always under the watchful gaze of about two dozen guards. He did meet a few people though, one that called himself Nemesis Antaris, not really a person, but a robot. Nem (as the inmates took to calling him) spoke of a man, once a hero but no longer, who was rallying those around him hoping for the strongest out there to help him get his vengeance. Granis was interested, but found it difficult to trust another so soon, when Arachnos came he struck off on his own in the isles.
--------------
Granis was alone in the isles, wandering through them, doing tasks for the contacts that were looking for a little muscle. They paid well, but he was always wary, looking for any sign that his next mission might be a double-cross. His trust wasn't easy to earn anymore, Gregor had made sure of that.
Then, one day when he was in the place they called Bloody Bay, looking to test himself against a few of Paragon's 'Heroes' he saw them, a group of 'Destroyers' they called themselves, Status Crow's cadre. Following from a distance he could tell their members from the uniforms they wore, Gunmetal and orange, not his personal choice but not a bad one by any means. Then he saw the man himself, though not nearly as large as Granis he possessed a certain power all his own, and his leadership abilities were evident as he flew self-assuredly over the battle scene. Status Crow, so this was the man that Nem had told him of, it was apparent that he was looked up to and very much trusted by his members, they followed his commands without a moment's hesitation, then Granis spotted Nem among them, a large robot stuffed into human clothes, what a sight that was!
Granis was watching the fighting, it was escalating quickly as the heroes called in more support from Paragon, then he spotted a blaster, hovering maybe 100 feet above the Destroyers, he was taking aim at Nem who was all but oblivious to his presence, summoning and equipping his robots as they fell in battle. He couldn't have that. some 'Hero' shooting an oblivious foe in the back. Granis jumped at the blaster, slamming his fists over his head and into the blaster's face, stunning him and dropping him from the sky. When the blaster almost landed on top of a small German boy Granis laughed out loud at the kid's reaction, he must have jumped a foot before sicking an entire pack of his own robots on the 'Hero' dispatching him quickly.
This was a skilled group, Granis could see that, they interacted well, and reacted quickly to incoming threats, he was interested, and decided he'd watch them for a while longer, perhaps determining if this was a place he wanted to be.
------------
Granis had been watching them, these 'Destroyers' for nearly a month now, he found it interesting that whenever they came to Bloody Bay the heroes started pouring in. One group in particular seemed to have some vendetta against Status Crow. Their taunts filled the air as they stood feet from the arachnos base. Hordes of them mocking the outnumbered and overpowered villains. This enrages Granis as little else could. These people called themselves Heroes? The fancied themselves protectors? This behavior was more suited to the patrons of Arachnos than to those who claimed to fight for the innocent.
He took a week. Removing his armor, revealing the hideous burnt flesh beneath, he stole into Paragon. To a place he had been to several times in the past. He knew he would find no solace here, he didn't even really know them, but as he ran his fingers over the stones bearing their names he felt numb. These people had given him life. He had flashes now and then when he slept, Dreams of the life he had once known. He was built like his father who had dark, almost black hair and penetrating eyes. His mother with her Fiery red mane and clearest blue eyes the color of the sky, she had been so beautiful. He saw them smiling over him, but even in his dreams he didn't truly know them, he had once had his father's eyes. Now they were darkened by his rage, His mother had given him her hair, though he kept it trimmed short the resemblance was unmistakable. He closed his eyes trembling slightly as he traced the letters he had memorized years before. He knew he'd be weeping if he was still able to do so.
"I'm sorry" he said, his voice thicker than usual. "I have to do this, they are so self righteous and they think themselves above everyone. If I don't work against them, who will? Status has the right idea, they've become corrupted and I won't stand for it." Placing his palm flat against his mother's name he whispered "Please don't think less of me for choosing this path, I won't be back again, they won't let me back, I'm sorry." With that he stood, turning his back on the stones for the last time, he hoped that those they represented wouldn't turn their backs to him as he leapt across the place he had once called home.
Passing through the neighborhoods he knew were the worst, half hoping for a fight. That was when he saw the 'Flash' of shadow. There really wasn't any other way to describe it, There were several clockwork on a fire escape that were suddenly engulfed in darkness coming from the window. Peering inside he saw a bespectacled boy who couldn't have been more than 10. Granis blinked at the boy, seeing himself for an instant, then shaking his head he muttered to himself bitterly "So, where are all the heroes then?" With that comment echoing through his head he launched himself up to the window, dispatching the clockwork there quickly. Grinning to himself over how much stronger he was now than he had been when he'd lived here. When he turned to the boy he saw himself again. He reached out and the boy came to him.
"What's your name kid?" he asked, trying to make his voice less fearsome than usual. "G-Garrett" the boy said quietly. Glancing around the room Granis spotted 2 charred masses and willed himself to not think about his own parents. "You're coming with me kiddo" he said "I'll take you somewhere safe" nodding slowly Garrett looked Granis over slowly and smiled slightly as he allowed himself to be lifted onto his shoulder. "Are you fast?" he asked "Daddy was real fast" Granis looked sideways at the kid "Oh?" Nodding slightly he said "Mommy could fly too, I hope I can learn to fly" Granis smirked at him "We're gonna be alright kid, everything will be alright, now hold on." They climbed out the window and were at the top of the building in a single leap. Then quickly Granis took him across the city to the ship that would take them back to the Rogue Isles.