Slade, Charles | Marvel: Dark Future

Slade, Charles Jun 3, 2010 9:09:59 GMT -6

Post by epitaph on Jun 3, 2010 9:09:59 GMT -6

CHARLES HAMILTON SLADE

EPITAPH

' B a s i c s

' A b i l i t i e s

• Power [/color] | As a member of Clan Akkaba and decedent of En Sabah Nur, Charles is a shape shifter. He’s able to alter his body, creating, moving or altering parts of his anatomy effortlessly. His cells divide and change at an alarming rate, allowing him to control how they develop, building muscle, fat, extra skin or bone, leading to some drastic physical changes. As a side effect of his rapid cellular division Charles ages at an extremely stunted rate and while he’s middle aged in chronological terms he’s still young biologically. As his abilities develop further his aging seems to be still slowing.

Charles is able to construct new organs, close wounds, and reabsorb blood as it pours out, in all resembling an impressive healing factor. In truth most of his regenerative and adaptive qualities are conscious, so if unconscious or sedated he’s as vulnerable as anyone else.

While able to physically change to take on the physical features of others doing so is an extremely difficult and draining process. Copy the fine details such as finger prints or the veins in the eyes are all but impossible and even less refined imitations apply significant physical stresses. He’s generally not able to maintain other forms for extended periods of time and after ten or twenty minutes will begin suffering from sweating or muscle spasms.

Charles’ ability to shape shift is limited only to his biological mass, and while that mass is variable he’s unable to replicate anything that looks cotton, silk, etc, and has had only limited success with imitating leathers. In combat he'll often crast weapons of flesh and bone. Spears, knives, whips, etc.

• Weapons [/color] | Only the weak need tools to kill.
• Weaknesses [/color] | While highly resistant to physical trauma, extreme heat, cold, radiation and other such things can be highly effective in dealing with him. Telepaths and toxins are also moderately use, though his unique physiology can provide a varying degree of resistance.

• Skills[/color] | Having spent a few years in the world, working, travelling, and attending the best schools, Charles has an unusual viewpoint on things. Most of his childhood friends have grown older, had children, and approach death with each passing day. He however, sees himself as ‘the fittest’ the best in his progenitor’s line, and so pushes to learn and develop control of the world around him, morality falling to the wayside. He’s been formally educated in Economics, History, Mathematics, and has a sound understanding of Biology and Physics.

Having spent a few years within the clan, among its ruling council has also instilled a much more ruthless education, though he often covers such unpleasantness with an innocent smile.

Not used to having to do his on chores, he lacks any real constructive abilities. He doesn’t know a great deal about cars, building, etc, though my might grasp the mechanics or design behind such things.

' A p p e a r a n c e

• Height [/color] | Five feet, nine inches
• Weight [/color] | 138 lbs
• Hair color & Style [/color] | Naturally a pale shade of pink, his hair is always dyed a shade of brown. It’s always worn short and spiky to help the illusion of his young age.
• Eye color [/color] | Green
• Face claim [/color] | Kyle Gallner
• Overall Appearance[/color] | Charles doesn’t work out. He doesn’t play any real sports, and physically isn’t all that developed. His build is pretty skinny, slightly toned and without an excess of bulk, preferring speed over power. What he looks like is rather variable though, and in truth his appearance it more a matter of habit then actual effort. His body naturally takes this shape, because it’s the one it’s most used to, and so his state has allowed for time to be dedicated to other things.
In a crowd it’s not hard to ignore him, his stature less than impressive, and he’s found that nature to serve well enough so far. Looking like someone in his twenties, perhaps even late teens, leads to regular IDing, but keeping a number of copies of identification, for different people, different persona’s Charles is able to enter most places and pass largely unnoticed regardless of sex or age.

While on the job his style of dress can vary greatly, depending on where he’s going, what he’s expecting, etc. Usually Charles always keeps multiple sets of other clothes somewhere on hand, stowed in the back of a car, etc, in case a change is needed.

If necessary he’ll wear a uniform, but when it comes to day to day life tends to stick with jeans and t-shirts, just to help fit in with supposed peers.

' P e r s o n a l i t y

• Favorite Color [/color] | Green; He likes it.
• Likes [/color] |

• Dislikes [/color] |

• Fears [/color] | Lack of control, personal frailty, Flying (kinda, a little, hates to admit it)
• Goals/ dreams[/color] | Becoming a god.
• Overall Personality[/color] | Everything is going so well. War, Death, and Disease have struck the earth. Most of the weaker chaff having been removed from the breeding stock by the Legacy Virus, and of those that remain the coming battles should thin their numbers. Sides are taking shape for another War, one to tear North America, and perhaps the world, apart. Epitaph doesn’t care which side wins. He doesn’t care about the humans or their little society, but his family, his clan, and the need to see the strong survive, live on, and the weak crushed into dust. Everything is going so well, the will of Apocalypse is being done, and in Charles’ mind it’s just a matter of time before he rises up to take hold of the world shaped in his image.

In a strange conflict Charles loves life. He enjoys the world, nature, and can be kind, if warranted. He can be cold, merciless and cruel, but only minutes later discard the manner, seemingly changing personality as quickly as he does shape. More often than not, he appears to be friendly, charming and almost innocent, though often enough such is used as a weapon, disarming targets.

The weak should perish and the strong have the right to take what they want.

' H i s t o r y

• Birthplace [/color] | Bath, UK
• Mother [/color] | Isabella Slade
• Father [/color] | Fredrick Slade
• Siblings[/color] | None
• Other Relations [/color] | Extensive relations in the clan, distantly related to Jonathon Starsmore and Clarice Ferguson
• Companion [/color] | None
• Overall history[/color] | Having been born in the United Kingdom just before the turn of the century Charles was given the best education within the clan. Its philosophies and traditions have been engrained into his character since before he could walk, the strong surviving and the weak dead. He excelled in his studies, and at the age of twelve proved himself more than just human, showing just how strong Apocalypse’s blood was within him. It started with little more than a twisting of the skin but taken aside by tutors began a further education, learning how to use his gifts to grow closer to their progenitor, to evolve into something far more than human. He was separated from his peers, and for a few years to follow kept away from others, kept remote, and tested, both physically and mentally.
Morality started to fall to the wayside, and soon the world fell apart.

The will of Apocalypse came to be, and the future that Clan Akkaba had spent millennium upon millennium preparing for, came to pass. As always, they survived, smaller, but stronger for the experience. A few of their numbers fell, their tattoos cut away, and now again war is on the horizon. As humanity carved a place out for themselves, needing mutant allies, Charles was sent to join and serve the New Order, working from within to drive the conflict, to kill the weak, while his kin infiltrate the political system.

Things will be ready when Apocalypse wakes.

' O u t o f C h a r a c t e r

RP Sample:

Charles opened his eyes and starred at the ceiling. Morning had come, light poured in the window, another beautiful day. A woman’s warm body laid beside him, some mutant girl they’d detained, a pretty little thing, given a choice. ‘Be of use or be a corpse’ and how she’d obviously enjoyed being of use.

The lab check came back clean. No disease, no genetic flaws, just weak. She’d hardly survive all alone. That was the way the world should work, but just smart enough she’d cut a deal. He couldn’t remember a name, didn’t really care. The genetic markers were all right, and she knew how to survive. The thought of that forced a little smile to tug at the corner of his mouth. The corner of his mouth in turn stretched, splitting, extra teeth, each one a jagged dagger, broke from the lip. Muscles flexed, shifting in position, rolling under the skin. They expanded, bones cracking, breaking and reforming, his size nearly doubled as he moved, hips turning to the bedside. They pulled the torso up behind, and then up to his feet.

Everything eased back into position, bones settling, the woman in bed still sound asleep. Charles left, walked out into the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. He walked through the small space without a thought of clothing, and easing the door open, reached within, long fingers coiling around a carton of orange juice.

He held it, the digits expanding, tubules down their interiors growing, hollow nails extended, easing into the carton.

Stumbling to the couch he drained it.

It was going to be a rough day.

•

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