I think its finally done... Tell me any changes I need to make.Name:
Domovoi Tarquin (DOM oh voy, TAR kin)Age:
Dom is a very lean character, almost to the point of being gangly. But, that comes with the territory when you’re 6’10” and only 180 pounds. He owns two massive scars, one ranging from just above his left temple, across his left cheek and just nicking the edge of his mouth as it continues down under his chin, stopping where the chin starts to curve into the neck. The other starts in the middle of his first scar and cuts right through the center of the bridge of his nose, making it extremely hard for him to breathe using that certain orifice. Dom’s bombardier blue eyes are arresting, making him seem much older and wiser than his youthful 22 years.Out of costumehttp://jomacdoom.files.wordpress.com/20 ... _guy_2.jpg
Glasses and all.Costume:
What with Dom basically being a sorcerer, he likes to wear those down to the floor robes like the ones he’s seen on TV. He was able to find enough deep crimson fabric to make the perfect cape, wrapping entirely around him, cloaking him in dark red. Underneath that is an old fashioned jerkin of tough, pliable leather, hard enough to stop the slash of a knife. On his legs he wears a set of steel alloy greaves, which he uses quite well when up close to an enemy, kicking out with long legs.Super Ability:
Psionic or Psychic weapons. Dom can imagine an injury upon an enemy, and although there will be no physical tissue damage, the enemy will feel the pain associated with that injury. For instance, say Dom imagined a male character’s… happy places… being crushed. The character would experience the excruciating pain associated with such an event, but there would be no physical damage to this area. A bit more practical a use of such an ability would be to imagine bending back someone fingers, perhaps causing them to impulsively open their hand, making them drop a weapon.
((Now while I mention instant death in his history, Dom cannot just cause someone to die then and there.))Ability Weakness:
Since Dom’s powers have very much to do with the human psyche, he is occasionally forced to look in unto himself and into his soul and make him relive some of his more painful memories. This is a debilitating condition for him, one which he often has trouble forcing himself out of. During these involuntary bouts of self-reflection, he is paralyzed on the spot wherever the effect onsets. It can sometimes take minutes for him to regain his consciousness. Sometimes, such an episode can triggered by the simplest thing as seeing his reflection in a puddle of water.History:
Dom was born into a relatively high-up family of the Davy’s Locker gang, high enough for his mother working with members of “The Kraken’s” inner circle. With his parents being a member of such a gang, Dom was often exposed to magic of all kinds from a very young age mostly manipulative. And it was actually a racquet-ball sized, enchanted model of the human brain that he always enjoyed toying with when he was a toddler: he would always try to find some sort of purchase in the ridges with his teeth, and even as he went through adolescence: he enjoyed tossing it around his room down at the docks.
And that’s how it was. He would have lived a wonderfully evil life as a member of New Justice’s resident corsairs had it not been for that small, iridescent orb. It was enchanted, Dom’s parents knew, but they never expected the extent of the power the sphere contained.
One particular long day at the docks for both Dom’s father and himself left them both with frayed tempers. Soon, those short fuses were lit by a trivial, pointless matter, one which Dom can’t even recall. First they argued, then they yelled, and soon, fists were ready to fly. Not really wanting to get in a fight with his dad, Dom stalked down the hallway, back turned, leaving a typical teenager comment in his wake.
“Sometimes, I wish you were dead…”
Dom did not think the thud he heard superseding this comment could possibly be his father’s corpse hitting the floor. So he continued retreating into his room and groped around in the semidarkness of the evening until he found his model brain. That’s when something hit him. It wasn’t glowing anymore. Whenever he entered into his room after coming home from the docks, the metallic globe would be glowing with a soft glittering look. He palmed it calmly for a moment before his thoughts were wrenched away by the blood-curdling scream of his mother as she came through the door. He rushed out to see what was wrong, and stopped dead as he spied the body of his father. Dom’s mother had one hand to her throat, and the other held a kitchen knife she had been using to prepare dinner. She merely looked from Dom’s face, to the model still clutched in his hand, and she knew. Well, she thought she knew. She believed Dom knew what he had done, that he had willingly killed his own father. That was when she went at him with the knife. He was able to duck under her and move towards the door, but only after she had torn his face open in two places.
So he ran.
He ran until he thought he could run no more, until his left eye was gummed shut with dried blood. His one remaining good eye told him he was on the outskirts of the city. He knew he must be close to the academy of the hated Alliance of Steel. But considering his circumstances, bad-blood was something he couldn’t really afford. He slowly made his way to the academy and begged for admission. Now a student, he is often at odds with his peers, as his heavy Davy’s Locker accent gives him away to be a former gang member relatively quickly. This makes him very ashamed of his past, and he can quickly tailspin into a deep depression if spoken to in a way that makes him recollect, whether on purpose or not.