I've had the origin story for my dominator kicking around for a year or two now, and I figure I should probably post it up considering the reasonably good reception my Vigilant origin story got, so enjoy
'Wintergreen'
Donny Hunter was a boy who grew up in the undergrounds of the Rogue Isles. This in itself means he grew on the back streets of the back streets of Western society, in a time when the establishment were self involved to the point where the young were just part of the scenery. He grew up in the background of the background, with violence, drugs and general immorality surrounding him in his most impressionable years. His mother was a drug addict who died when he was very young and his abusive father was always out doing jobs for the mob with Donny's 8 years older brother, Jack. He had to raise himself in the 'City of Villains', where people would literally rip you in two as soon as look at you. The fact that he was a pale ,black haired, blue eyed boy helped him to not stand out in this respect. He wasn't one of those kids who had super powers, so he was a non-entity to the establishment, and the authorities. Every scrap of life he had he had to claw out of the rubbish bins of others. Considering his situation, he was almost heroic in his morality, he only stole from those who could afford it, or had insurance, and he never used violence and tried to stop others from using violence in his presence, mainly his brother and father, but neither would listen; he meant nothing to them. Being a smart boy, he reflected on his existence and sometimes thought that he maybe should kill himself so that he wouldn't have to suffer his own plight, and worse suffer the plight of others. He decided that he was the only one in the Rogue Isles with the heart to do anything about the City of Villains, he told himself he would stomach his angst for the good of others in the city, he had to do something, and at the start he thought he could.
When he was about 13 he started thinking of ways to help the people of the Rogue Isles, trying to open charities and starting support groups, but he could not build and run charities on his own, and no one would attend his support groups. He quickly learned that he could not make any difference, it was too easy to be ignored. When he was around 16 he began pursuing other, more direct avenues. He realised that in order to make change, one must have power. The first thing that came to his mind were the Heroes of Paragon City. He ran to the docks of Port Oakes to send a letter to the Freedom Phalanx, headed by the mighty Statesman, pleading for them to intervene. He received no reply. He descended into a pit of depression; all he wanted was to make the world a better place and in the Rogue Isles he could not do it. Not only did he lack the power to change things but the people of the City of Villains did not seem to want help. He found it hard to get up in the mornings, he found it hard to sleep. Then one night, a few days after Donny's uncelebrated 17th birthday, Jack came home, but unlike most nights his father was not with him. Jacks face was completely white, his striking blue eyes could barely be seen behind his half-closed eyelids, and his normally neat jet-black hair was roughed up to the point that he paralleled a homeless person on a bad hair day. He looked solemn, and not sad, but vengeful. For what felt like the first time in his life, Jack acknowledged Donny's presence with a toneless 'Hey.' Before taking a seat facing the wall, expressionless. Something went wrong, Donny thought, something went very wrong. His face turned solemn too, but more out of respect for his brother than his abusive drunkard excuse for a father. Donny asked his brother what happened. Jack said that their father had fallen out of favour with the mob, and was gunned down by a posse from the Marcone family. As the adrenaline was leaving Jack's system, Donny could see his anguish beginning to penetrate his cold exterior, as a tear ran down Jack's eye. "Just like that." He said, beginning to weep. "On a whim, they killed him for sport. He always did what they said, always." Donny never thought that Jack and his father had anything more than a business relationship, and pitied his older brother. Jack continued: "I hated the *******. He was a terrible father, and he beat the both of us. But I worked with him anyway, to try and help this family. For what? To be the target in some mob boss' shooting range?" The sudden anger appearing in Jack's voice was more than apparent. "I am NOT going to end up like that. Not me." Jack wiped the tears and sweat from his face as he addressed his brother fully: "Little brother, I know I've ignored you all this time, I know I haven't been a good guy, I needed to pretend for our dad to trust me to start making my own money doing odd jobs for his bosses. I told myself that I was still a good guy deep down, but I guess I lost myself along the way. I am sorry little brother. But now we both need to work together if we are going to survive. The Marcones dont to kill people, they kill families. We're next, Don, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I know what I have to do." With that, Jack got up, pistol in hand, and left the house. Donny knew he couldn't sit there waiting. He knew he couldn't save the city, but he thought he might be able to save his older brother. Whatever Jack was about to do, Donny wasn't going to let him do it alone.
Donny followed Jack from the shadows, keeping his distance, and watched as he entered a seemingly empty warehouse from the side entrance, pistol drawn. Donny entered soon after, making sure no one was watching, and climbed up into the rafters, keeping an eye on his brother. After finding a perch next to a light fixture, Donny looked surveyed the warehouse. Aside from the usual crates, he saw what looked like vats, stacked everywhere. He could see most were filled with various contraband: weapons, cocaine, the usual, except for one, directly below him, filled with strange green liquid which was slowly permeating the atmosphere. He then refocused his attention on his brother who was wandering amongst the strange vats, before looking ahead at his path and noticing he was heading towards a veritable battalion of the mob, complete with tommy guns and token fedora hats. He called to his brother, projecting his voice yet whispering "Jack!". His brother looked up, saw him, and immediately replied "What the hell are you doing here?" in a projected whisper of his own. Donny replied "There are a lot of guys up there, man. ALOT. and they don't look too friendly." Jack smiled, for the first time in his life, someone was looking out for him. "Damn it, ok, I'll have to go back and call some of my buddies then. We're gonna tear these guys apart for poaching the Hunters." Jack then left the warehouse, burying his face in his hands at the terrible pun he accidentally let loose. Donny started to climb down, but he slipped. For two thirds of a second he fell, and he reflected on his sad life before landing face first into the open vat filled with green liquid. Jack heard the splash and put his cell phone away, rushing as quietly as possible to the source of the noise back in the warehouse; from where Donny was.
He feared the worst, and on top of that, the posse also heard the noise and went to check it out. Jack saw 3 men run to the open vat and draw their guns on it, as he took cover behind a box. Donny climbed out of the vat, coughing, but feeling oddly refreshed. One of the posse spoke "Who are you, punk? Get outta here!" His threat fell on deaf ears as Donny's eyes were closed and his ears were still waterlogged. "Hey! Don't ignore me, punk!" and he went to shove him back against the wall, but stopped dead as soon as he touched Donny. He was frozen solid. The other two began shouting, while Donny cleaned the gunk from his ears and away from his eyes. He regained control of his senses enough to realise the situation, but only for a second as a blinding headache forced him on the floor. He was gritting his teeth through the pain as more and more of the mob surrounded him, weapons drawn. He let out a scream as he stood up straight and dozens of what appeared to be wooden thorns protruded from all over his body. The mobsters gasped, Jack trying to understand what was happening by sound as he was concealing himself behind a crate. He wanted to help his brother but his survival instinct, the bit of him he got from his father, was forcing him to stay hidden as Donny faced the music. Donny closed his eyes, fighting the headache, as the thorns shot out from his body before being instantly replaced by new ones. Whatever happened to him, it seemed he had yet to gain control over it. Then, just as suddenly, the headache stopped as he opened his eyes and saw the corpses surrounding him, he vomited in his mouth at the thought that he caused these deaths, before looking at his body, seeing his now pale green skin, running his fingers through his dark green hair and noticing the large thorns covering his body. At least now, he thought, he could make a difference. Hearing helicopters nearby, two of the mobsters Donny thought he killed got up, heavily wounded, and ran, shouting "Longbow! The Heroes are comin'!" before exiting the building. As soon as they closed the door, the sound of machine gun fire let Donny and Jack know that they were gunned down by Longbow riflemen. Jack overcame his urge to hide and came out, looking at his now green skinned, thorn covered brother. "Whoa." was the only word he could muster at the sight of the new Donny. Once Donny caught sight of Jack, he relaxed and the thorns covering his body rescinded. Donny smiled, then Jack smiled back. Donny spoke first "I think I found my ticket out of here, and you're coming with me. We're going to Paragon, and I'm joining the Hero Corps." A longbow SWAT team breached the front door, then stormed the now empty building. They caught sight of Jack's drawn pistol and opened fire without warning. Donny jumped out from amongst the crates to take a look at those who would destroy his dream of redeeming his brother. Rage filled his eyes as the air in the building lowered to arctic temperatures. He saw their Longbow uniforms, then he laughed. He laughed hard at the sick irony of it all. One of the SWAT shouted "What the hell is that?"
"I don't care, take him out!" replied the squad leader. They opened fire on the broken Donny. 3 or 4 bullets hit him, and yet he did not bleed. He did not die. He looked at his brother's murderers with pure hate, and decided he would hone his powers by slaughtering them. 2 of the 6 man squad froze straight away, he then froze the floor on which his enemies stood and they lost their footing, he threw and blasted thorn after thorn after thorn into what he was sure were by now corpses. Two of them that were left decided to run away, but Donny would not give them the option, as he froze the feet of one , and impaled the feet of another into the floor with a long thorn. He then ran up to the wrongly designated 'heroes' and lunged at both of their heads with two of the larger thorns protruding from his hands, instantly killing both of his immobile foes.
He stopped to stare at his now bloody thorns. He was now a Villain, and he liked it. Radios of the now dead longbow strike team held the calls of their superiors waiting outside, surrounding the building, saying they were ready to go in. Donny closed his eyes and lowered the temperature of the building to the point where the moisture in the air made it hard to discern friend from foe, though Donny was unaffected, as he readied himself. The next few hours, he thought, will be fun.
Donny got his first good sleep in a very long time. He was not going to change things. Life was now only about himself. In the morning he picked up an edition of the Rogue Island Protector, the headline was New Villain Emerging: Wintergreen. Underneath were some photos of the warehouse where he taught himself to use his powers, laden with the corpses of those he practised on. He smiled. He liked the name Wintergreen.
Lemme know what you guys think
@Rooks
"You should come inside the box... Then you'll know what I mean."
Posted
Very nice Rooks, gripping too. I always liked the concept of your Dominator
[ QUOTE ]
We're gonna tear these guys apart for poaching the Hunters
I've had the origin story for my dominator kicking around for a year or two now, and I figure I should probably post it up considering the reasonably good reception my Vigilant origin story got, so enjoy
'Wintergreen'
Donny Hunter was a boy who grew up in the undergrounds of the Rogue Isles. This in itself means he grew on the back streets of the back streets of Western society, in a time when the establishment were self involved to the point where the young were just part of the scenery. He grew up in the background of the background, with violence, drugs and general immorality surrounding him in his most impressionable years. His mother was a drug addict who died when he was very young and his abusive father was always out doing jobs for the mob with Donny's 8 years older brother, Jack. He had to raise himself in the 'City of Villains', where people would literally rip you in two as soon as look at you. The fact that he was a pale ,black haired, blue eyed boy helped him to not stand out in this respect. He wasn't one of those kids who had super powers, so he was a non-entity to the establishment, and the authorities. Every scrap of life he had he had to claw out of the rubbish bins of others. Considering his situation, he was almost heroic in his morality, he only stole from those who could afford it, or had insurance, and he never used violence and tried to stop others from using violence in his presence, mainly his brother and father, but neither would listen; he meant nothing to them. Being a smart boy, he reflected on his existence and sometimes thought that he maybe should kill himself so that he wouldn't have to suffer his own plight, and worse suffer the plight of others. He decided that he was the only one in the Rogue Isles with the heart to do anything about the City of Villains, he told himself he would stomach his angst for the good of others in the city, he had to do something, and at the start he thought he could.
When he was about 13 he started thinking of ways to help the people of the Rogue Isles, trying to open charities and starting support groups, but he could not build and run charities on his own, and no one would attend his support groups. He quickly learned that he could not make any difference, it was too easy to be ignored. When he was around 16 he began pursuing other, more direct avenues. He realised that in order to make change, one must have power. The first thing that came to his mind were the Heroes of Paragon City. He ran to the docks of Port Oakes to send a letter to the Freedom Phalanx, headed by the mighty Statesman, pleading for them to intervene. He received no reply. He descended into a pit of depression; all he wanted was to make the world a better place and in the Rogue Isles he could not do it. Not only did he lack the power to change things but the people of the City of Villains did not seem to want help. He found it hard to get up in the mornings, he found it hard to sleep. Then one night, a few days after Donny's uncelebrated 17th birthday, Jack came home, but unlike most nights his father was not with him. Jacks face was completely white, his striking blue eyes could barely be seen behind his half-closed eyelids, and his normally neat jet-black hair was roughed up to the point that he paralleled a homeless person on a bad hair day. He looked solemn, and not sad, but vengeful. For what felt like the first time in his life, Jack acknowledged Donny's presence with a toneless 'Hey.' Before taking a seat facing the wall, expressionless. Something went wrong, Donny thought, something went very wrong. His face turned solemn too, but more out of respect for his brother than his abusive drunkard excuse for a father. Donny asked his brother what happened. Jack said that their father had fallen out of favour with the mob, and was gunned down by a posse from the Marcone family. As the adrenaline was leaving Jack's system, Donny could see his anguish beginning to penetrate his cold exterior, as a tear ran down Jack's eye. "Just like that." He said, beginning to weep. "On a whim, they killed him for sport. He always did what they said, always." Donny never thought that Jack and his father had anything more than a business relationship, and pitied his older brother. Jack continued: "I hated the *******. He was a terrible father, and he beat the both of us. But I worked with him anyway, to try and help this family. For what? To be the target in some mob boss' shooting range?" The sudden anger appearing in Jack's voice was more than apparent. "I am NOT going to end up like that. Not me." Jack wiped the tears and sweat from his face as he addressed his brother fully: "Little brother, I know I've ignored you all this time, I know I haven't been a good guy, I needed to pretend for our dad to trust me to start making my own money doing odd jobs for his bosses. I told myself that I was still a good guy deep down, but I guess I lost myself along the way. I am sorry little brother. But now we both need to work together if we are going to survive. The Marcones dont to kill people, they kill families. We're next, Don, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I know what I have to do." With that, Jack got up, pistol in hand, and left the house. Donny knew he couldn't sit there waiting. He knew he couldn't save the city, but he thought he might be able to save his older brother. Whatever Jack was about to do, Donny wasn't going to let him do it alone.
Donny followed Jack from the shadows, keeping his distance, and watched as he entered a seemingly empty warehouse from the side entrance, pistol drawn. Donny entered soon after, making sure no one was watching, and climbed up into the rafters, keeping an eye on his brother. After finding a perch next to a light fixture, Donny looked surveyed the warehouse. Aside from the usual crates, he saw what looked like vats, stacked everywhere. He could see most were filled with various contraband: weapons, cocaine, the usual, except for one, directly below him, filled with strange green liquid which was slowly permeating the atmosphere. He then refocused his attention on his brother who was wandering amongst the strange vats, before looking ahead at his path and noticing he was heading towards a veritable battalion of the mob, complete with tommy guns and token fedora hats. He called to his brother, projecting his voice yet whispering "Jack!". His brother looked up, saw him, and immediately replied "What the hell are you doing here?" in a projected whisper of his own. Donny replied "There are a lot of guys up there, man. ALOT. and they don't look too friendly." Jack smiled, for the first time in his life, someone was looking out for him. "Damn it, ok, I'll have to go back and call some of my buddies then. We're gonna tear these guys apart for poaching the Hunters." Jack then left the warehouse, burying his face in his hands at the terrible pun he accidentally let loose. Donny started to climb down, but he slipped. For two thirds of a second he fell, and he reflected on his sad life before landing face first into the open vat filled with green liquid. Jack heard the splash and put his cell phone away, rushing as quietly as possible to the source of the noise back in the warehouse; from where Donny was.
He feared the worst, and on top of that, the posse also heard the noise and went to check it out. Jack saw 3 men run to the open vat and draw their guns on it, as he took cover behind a box. Donny climbed out of the vat, coughing, but feeling oddly refreshed. One of the posse spoke "Who are you, punk? Get outta here!" His threat fell on deaf ears as Donny's eyes were closed and his ears were still waterlogged. "Hey! Don't ignore me, punk!" and he went to shove him back against the wall, but stopped dead as soon as he touched Donny. He was frozen solid. The other two began shouting, while Donny cleaned the gunk from his ears and away from his eyes. He regained control of his senses enough to realise the situation, but only for a second as a blinding headache forced him on the floor. He was gritting his teeth through the pain as more and more of the mob surrounded him, weapons drawn. He let out a scream as he stood up straight and dozens of what appeared to be wooden thorns protruded from all over his body. The mobsters gasped, Jack trying to understand what was happening by sound as he was concealing himself behind a crate. He wanted to help his brother but his survival instinct, the bit of him he got from his father, was forcing him to stay hidden as Donny faced the music. Donny closed his eyes, fighting the headache, as the thorns shot out from his body before being instantly replaced by new ones. Whatever happened to him, it seemed he had yet to gain control over it. Then, just as suddenly, the headache stopped as he opened his eyes and saw the corpses surrounding him, he vomited in his mouth at the thought that he caused these deaths, before looking at his body, seeing his now pale green skin, running his fingers through his dark green hair and noticing the large thorns covering his body. At least now, he thought, he could make a difference. Hearing helicopters nearby, two of the mobsters Donny thought he killed got up, heavily wounded, and ran, shouting "Longbow! The Heroes are comin'!" before exiting the building. As soon as they closed the door, the sound of machine gun fire let Donny and Jack know that they were gunned down by Longbow riflemen. Jack overcame his urge to hide and came out, looking at his now green skinned, thorn covered brother. "Whoa." was the only word he could muster at the sight of the new Donny. Once Donny caught sight of Jack, he relaxed and the thorns covering his body rescinded. Donny smiled, then Jack smiled back. Donny spoke first "I think I found my ticket out of here, and you're coming with me. We're going to Paragon, and I'm joining the Hero Corps." A longbow SWAT team breached the front door, then stormed the now empty building. They caught sight of Jack's drawn pistol and opened fire without warning. Donny jumped out from amongst the crates to take a look at those who would destroy his dream of redeeming his brother. Rage filled his eyes as the air in the building lowered to arctic temperatures. He saw their Longbow uniforms, then he laughed. He laughed hard at the sick irony of it all. One of the SWAT shouted "What the hell is that?"
"I don't care, take him out!" replied the squad leader. They opened fire on the broken Donny. 3 or 4 bullets hit him, and yet he did not bleed. He did not die. He looked at his brother's murderers with pure hate, and decided he would hone his powers by slaughtering them. 2 of the 6 man squad froze straight away, he then froze the floor on which his enemies stood and they lost their footing, he threw and blasted thorn after thorn after thorn into what he was sure were by now corpses. Two of them that were left decided to run away, but Donny would not give them the option, as he froze the feet of one , and impaled the feet of another into the floor with a long thorn. He then ran up to the wrongly designated 'heroes' and lunged at both of their heads with two of the larger thorns protruding from his hands, instantly killing both of his immobile foes.
He stopped to stare at his now bloody thorns. He was now a Villain, and he liked it. Radios of the now dead longbow strike team held the calls of their superiors waiting outside, surrounding the building, saying they were ready to go in. Donny closed his eyes and lowered the temperature of the building to the point where the moisture in the air made it hard to discern friend from foe, though Donny was unaffected, as he readied himself. The next few hours, he thought, will be fun.
Donny got his first good sleep in a very long time. He was not going to change things. Life was now only about himself. In the morning he picked up an edition of the Rogue Island Protector, the headline was New Villain Emerging: Wintergreen. Underneath were some photos of the warehouse where he taught himself to use his powers, laden with the corpses of those he practised on. He smiled. He liked the name Wintergreen.
Lemme know what you guys think
@Rooks
"You should come inside the box... Then you'll know what I mean."