Name: Meden Archer
Epitaph: Professor Paradox
Position: Primary repairman/ secondary shooter.
Appearance: http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcjwk ... o1_500.jpg
Likes to wear suits, made by himself normally. The clothes themselves are quite tough, to give himself some protection considering the people he tangles with. He could take a bullet but it would probably still penetrate. Likes black and electric green, like his eyes. The buttons on his suit are electric green, as well as his laces, tie, socks, scarf and underwear. Streaks his hair too. Tips his gloves too, if enough force is used, the tips will slip through creating a nasty slash. The inside of his jacket is full of pockets. Some full of copper wire, others full of tools, nuts and bolts, a few vials, three notepads, 7 pens, three extra vials of ink, etc, trick bullets, make-up, etc. Less important or useful items are kept in the jacket's back pockets, requiring him to take it off to get at them.
The jacket's tailcoats reach to below his knees. Green lines the edges of the entire item. This symbol
is emblazoned on his right side, the bottoms of his shoes. His socks and underwear too. Keeps a collapse top hat and trick cane around his person too.
Weapon of Choice: Two pistols, seven rounds each, each barrel is 30 cm long, each pistol is perfectly balanced. He creates his own bullets too for special uasage. Three settings to his gun. Extended gadgets to the chamber which can be taken on or off for different effects. The first setting is ordinary penetration, the second causes the bullets to bounce and is less lethal and the third tends to be other. Could be things like it curves the bullet, or to allow to ignore the wind, or to coat the bullet in something, etc.
Attack List Theme: Just throws in mathematical terminology or something. Names aren't his strong suit.
Personality Defect: Stupid mistakes. He tends to miss Stupid mistakes. He tends to miss out little things or screw up in little ways that lead to big consequences. Like misreading his notes and thinking he'd written a 3 instead of a 2, or forgetting to convert feet to metres.
Traits: Mildly confused with people. He can handle himself in average situations, but a little lost otherwise, like during funerals, or birthdays, so on, so on. Likes to know how things work, even if they aren't his area, easily curious. Like those kids who never stop asking questions that take at least five minutes to answer. Dislikes rash people who live on their emotions, mainly because he can't understand them that well. Enjoys games, cookery, puzzles and drawing.
Devil Fruit: None.
Basic Bio: Born to a pair of teachers, he spent most of his childhood going to psychiatrists, speech therapists and private schools. Once he hit fourteen he had a minor spat with another maths student, and after they'd extracted the two compasses and the ruler, they sent off to an asylum. His parents, burnt out, had given up a lot of hope of Meden ever becoming even merely functional in normal society. Meden however, did well in the nuthouse, if only because he wanted the hell out. If he'd been having trouble with ordinary people, he was completely lost in a building full of people each uniquely different and frankly, completely impossible for him to comprehend. They let him out four years later, only slightly more learned in dealing with people, but much better at keeping his own problems under-wraps. He spent a month resting and with his parents, then the next four years at a university. Either bugging the professors with questions, or reading in the library. It wasn't uncommon to find him passed out on a desk in the morning, and then see him wake up with a panicked jolt five minutes before his first lecture which was about ten minutes away at average running speed. He took up track in the second year.
At the end of that, once he'd gotten his hands on a doctorate, he left. Scarpered. Hit the road Jack. Didn't even leave a note. His room in the dorms caught fire the next day, a device had been set off with a timer to wait until the minimum number of people were in the building. All the records of his work were gone. Any hypotheses he'd submitted, homeworks, essays, charred in their cases. He'd gone off to do some field work and he didn't want anyone getting their hands on anything close to his work. Covering his tracks and all. He boarded a random boat and sailed off. Drifting from boat to boat.
Goal: To prove to the world that he's the smartest guy ever. No matter what.
Heightened Attribute: Intellect.