Post by Deleted on May 6, 2022 21:26:24 GMT -5
WELCOME TO LOS EUROSIA,
EVERETT "ROTTY" FORD
"But I'll grind against your bones until our marrows mix. I will eat you slowly"
BASICS
NAME: Everett Ford
AGE: 36
BIRTHDATE: November 17th
PRONOUNS: he/him/his
SEXUALITY: homosexual
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single
OCCUPATION: legally: bouncer of a gay club; illegally: the one man cleanup crew for anyone or anything that needs cleaning up
NEIGHBORHOOD: East End
MEMBER GROUP: Blackstorm
POWERS: Hyena Mimicry and Matter IngestionThe base of all of Rotty's abilities lie in his hyena mimicry. The strongest aspect of his hyena mimicry is his ability to ingest and digest absolutely anything that he can swallow, which means anything less dense than his hard teeth is at risk of being chewed and ingested. Everything from rotten roadkill to steel is digestible, and while he may not always gain nutrients, the ability to dispose of almost anything via his digestive tract is, at the very least, a neat party trick—a dangerous party trick that, when discovered as a teenager, led him to being involved in some of the worst drug and gang violence crimes imaginable because of his ability to destroy evidence so efficiently. The lesser aspects of his hyena mimicry are heightened senses including above average nocturnal vision, hearing, and smell, his ability to whoop—similar to a howl, but extremely loud and piercing—and most notably the ability to induce anxiety in those around him with his laugh when using a certain tone and timbre of his voice. This is a more unique aspect of his abilities that he still can't quite control to its fullest extent, so a lot of times he finds himself surrounded by people laughing with him but looking like they're on the verge of a panic attack.
THE LOOKS
HEIGHT: 6'1"
WEIGHT: 198 lbs
HAIR COLOR: brown
EYE COLOR: green
FACE CLAIM: jai courtney
OVERALL APPEARANCE: Physically, over the years, Rotty has taken on some of the features of his animal mimicry counterpart—the hyena. He has a slightly above average amount of body hair, and he tends to keep his hair in a sort of curly mullet that mimics the mane of a hyena. The musculature of his neck and upper traps make his neck thick like a hyena's, and that theme continues throughout the rest of his body. Standing at 6'1' and almost 200 lbs, he is a force to be reckoned with even without his enhanced abilities.
When it comes to fashion, Rotty can often be found wearing the same faded, ratty black t-shirt he'd owned for the last ten years along with dark jeans or old, worn out khaki shorts depending on the weather. He's had the same pair of Converse and steel toe Wolverine work boots since his early twenties, and he refuses to get a new pair as long as he can't see any of his toes poking through.
INSIDE
LIKES:
talking to himself casually
comedy
fighting
every animal in the world
scalp massages
steak
DISLIKES:
structure
cages
being ignored
being forced to work with others
fresh vegetables
poachers/sporting hunters
STRENGTHS:
a predatory disposition that helps him navigate almost any situation
the ability to eat anything and everything and actually enjoy it
easygoing
comical
street-smart
conniving in an unassuming way, an extension of his scavenger instincts
WEAKNESSES:
oblivious
slightly unhinged
unable to foresee the consequences of his actions
talkative and loud, making it harder for him to be sneaky
an innate, uncontrollable desire to create the chaos in which he thrives
OVERALL PERSONALITY:
Most of Rotty's friends would describe him as cuddly but cocky, regardless if it's truly founded or not. His overall obliviousness can come across as anything from aloof to straight up heartless, but his true friends know that that's just who he is and he never means anything personally no matter how much it seems like he's going out of his way to disregard someone's problem.
No matter the amount that surrounds him, he thrives in chaos. His small, dingy apartment is one of those places where if someone asks for a paperclip, he can tell you that there's one on the floor behind the left front leg of his bedroom dresser, and he'll never organize his place further than that. As a bouncer, he's been known to instigate fights just to sit back and watch for a bit before eventually breaking it up easily, and sometimes he forgets to "dispose of" a certain piece of evidence that incriminates whoever his current employer is just to watch him sweat a little. Though Los Eurosia isn't the most dangerous of places at the moment—which keeps his predatory instincts at bay—he has a hard time squashing the conniving, opportunistic, scavenging instincts that flood his psyche every day. Throwing people into chaos usually weakened them, and while there was no true need for Rotty to hunt weakened prey, it was still a skill he flexed from time to time.
Rotty Ford simply cannot be caged, and anyone that tries is quickly shown why hyenas are one of the world's top apex predators.
BACKGROUND
HOMETOWN: Melbourne, Australia
FAMILY: None
PETS: two pet rats named Pain and Panic
HISTORY:
He was born on the streets, and he'll die on the streets.
He was an unexpected, unwanted back alley birth. His mother didn't want him. His father was nonexistent as far as he was concerned. He had no siblings. No family on his mother's side that cared about him—he was pretty sure they thought he was dead. He was utterly alone from the moment he took his first breath, left alone in a tin trash can as he whooped and whined instinctively from hunger and fear.
Maybe he should've died. He should've taken his last breath in that garbage bin, because after he was saved close to what might have been his singular last breath, nothing good came of his life.
Whether it was the idea of having a baby as leverage or a possible tool for the future, there was no doubt that his savior wasn't truly a savior at all—merely a discoverer, a simple henchman for a low tier crime boss that controlled barely a three block radius from where Everett was found. Thankfully, the crime boss' wife had enough of a heart not to throw Everett away again like the crime boss wanted to do, and while she refused to raise him as her own, she allowed him to exist on the periphery of her family, providing just enough to keep him alive and functioning.
That all changed when his powers finally showed themselves.
Their development was slow, but the first indication that he was gifted was when the crime boss had had enough of Everett's existence in his house and attempted to poison him. Once. Twice. Three times. Five times. A new poison. Ten times. Pure arsenic. Rat poison. Fatal mushrooms. Rotten innards from the butcher. Nothing worked. Everett ate it all with a grateful smile on his face, and from the reports of the staff of the house, Everett hadn't gotten even the least bit sick. At the age of fifteen, he became a drug mule for his faux father, being forced to swallow tons of packaged drugs and even money in order to transport it across the city and sometimes to other cities in Australia. A few times, the drug sacks popped inside of him, releasing enough cocaine to kill seven horses, but it did absolutely nothing to him. The perfect little mule. Thankfully, this new "job" of his was enough of a distraction for him to hide the development of his other abilities. His hair became thicker, he started gaining muscle more, he could see at night, smell things from miles away, hear flies buzzing from across the room, and his laughter sometimes scared people away from him in a way it never had before. He was good enough at being a mule that no one paid him any attention until it was too late. Like the agent of chaos he was, he brought down the small crime organization he'd been forced to mule for by accidentally vomiting the sacks of drugs in front of police and claiming that he was being forced to do it. It wasn't completely a lie, but now that he had more control of his situation, he would use it to bring down the people who had kept him in a cage for so many years of his life. Their demise was his physical freedom, and though he was left with nothing to his name, it didn't take long for him to find his way into a more powerful group as their evidence destroyer.
His adult life was mostly served as a lackey for someone smaller but richer than him, and though he made a good living eating evidence and taking out the occasional troublemaker, the chains had slowly slithered around his ankles again, and it didn't help that he had to keep the rest of his abilities a secret lest he be hunted. Unfortunately, his skill set didn't exactly afford him the opportunities of traveling the world and living a dream life.
One day, though, whether by fate or pure luck, he'd run across a small little whispering on the internet, a group of people claiming that there were gifted individuals in the world and that they weren't going to hide anymore. That they deserved representation. Respect. Power. Everything Everett wanted. Leaving Australia the legal way proved to be too much of a task, but sneaking onto a shipping boat as a stowaway proved much easier, and while he had a bit of a trek once he hit the coast of California, making his way to Los Eurosia was quick. Using the minimal amount of information he'd gathered from the random forum, he was able to find the leader of Blackstorm and join their cause by offering his services. Though their activity was low, he was promised their movement would grow to the point it couldn't be ignored anymore.
Everett eventually got the nickname Rotty as a bastardized combination of Rett and Rotten, mostly because he didn't exactly keep it a secret that he could eat garbage for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and still be completely satisfied without getting sick. He'd made a decent attempt at living a normal life, one that wouldn't put him around the type of people he'd left back in Australia, and he even went as far as getting a job as a bouncer at a gay club—which was a normal job, as far as he was concerned. It didn't take long for the type of people from his old life to find him—mostly because he didn't make himself hard to find, and while he refuses to answer to anyone permanently, he serves as a sort of hired hand for cleaning up the messes around the city that no one wants anyone to find out about. Unfortunately, he's starting to make a little too much noise for his own good, and his safety is no longer guaranteed.
THE PLAYER
NAME: Gator
AGE: 32
TIMEZONE: CST