Post by Beanybag on Aug 10, 2008 18:12:38 GMT -5
Name: Prak Goodman
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Good/evil?
Power Level: Mid Tier - Low (2)
Timeline: Modern
Appearance: Hair: A nice golden blonde hair, with some waviness to it. Overall straight.
Eyes: Blue
Skin: White
Build: Average, slightly lanky, but strong.
Attire: Usually some sort of business suit, maybe just a shirt and tie.
Height: 6'2"
Outstanding Features: None. He is completely unremarkable, other than an average looking, slightly charming man.
Personality: Prak is one of the nicest people you will meet, almost officiously so. However, he isn't officious, since, if you ask him to stop talking to you, he will certainly oblige. He goes out of his way, sacrificing his own happiness, to make others happy. He is cheery, friendly, and has a sort of skip to his step that makes you think he has no idea about what the real world is like.
He will not stand for cruelty though, it makes him sick. Sometimes physically. He's dependable, loyal, intelligent, and very selfless. He's also completely psychotic.
History: Prak was born with the name David Goodman. His mother died giving birth to him, but that didn't bother his father too much. Nothing seemed to really. He took everything humorously, rather too much. His father would get fired from job after job, and they largely lived off unemployment checks and welfare. He just took it all in stride. His father would actually try, best as he knew how, to be a good father to David, but the fact was...well he was just a horrible person. He laughed at other people's suffering, and laughed at just about everything you weren't supposed to laugh at. And David hated him. David did everything he could to not be like his father.
David made very high grades, top 10 in his class. He wasn't the most popular kid, but he had respect. Because of his overly nice attitude and more than modest scholarly achievements, he excelled in the school life. It was just fitting for him, and he wouldn't have minded if he were in school his whole life. David's only problem with his life was his father.
They got along not at all and this continued until David was 16. David was finally pushed over the edge when him and his father were in the car driving around one night. His dad was driving along, singing to some AC/DC song trying to coax David to join in. Distracted, he didn't notice that a guy was jaywalking across the road. He slammed on the breaks, but noticed too late. He connected with the man with a sickening thud. The guy was launched, rolling and skidding a bit, about 15 feet down the road, limp.
Both David and his father watched the man and their faces both looked like they were about to puke. While David actually did throw up, his father instead puked out a ton of laughter. Not an evil laugh, like when evil people laugh at how evil they are, but a laugh because he sincerely thought that hitting the man was hilarious. David seethed with loathing at this while he was busy messing up the floor of their car, and his vomiting only invoked more laughter from his father. David resigned himself at that time to kill his father, and was a lot cheerier after that. They drove away, his father had easily, and rather humorously (to him at least), committed a hit and run. Everything was all fun and games to him though.
David, about a week later, woke himself up during the night at their house. It was a small house, barely two bedrooms, and a living room/kitchen. It usually had a few roaches and spiders roaming around it too, but they had long gotten used to their roommates. David, cut himself a shirt and pants out of trash bags, and made a makeshift mask. He grabbed a one of their steak knives, and cheerily, while singing a song, he went into his father's bedroom.
His father awoke to him singing. "I wish-"
"What are you doing David?"
"-I knew what I know now..."
"David, what the hell-" and David had slashed his throat, and continued to sing, while stabbing him more.
"...When I was younger."
Stab, stab, stab.
"I wish,"
Stab, stab, stab.
"I,"
Stab, stab, stab.
"knew what I know now,"
Stab, stab, stab.
"when I was stronger."
After David had finished with his father, he had stabbed him 54 times. It wasn't that he felt especially passionate about the whole thing, it was more that he was trying to prove a point.
He took off his plastic outfit and stuffed it all in another plastic bag and double bagged it. He took the keys, put that bag in the trunk, and took everything else from the house he thought he might need. He dumped the bag in a dumpster across town, and sold the car. He bought a bus ticket to somewhere else and disappeared for a while. He changed his name to Prak about this time.
He got a college degree, and had to work a lot of night jobs to get it. He got a decent scholarship for his MBA too, but that still took work.
He eventually got into corporate, settled into a nuclear family, went to church every Sunday, was friendly at work, loving at home, and killed about 8 people a year. Not necessarily at any specific times, he would just spot a cruel person, here or there, take their name, and plan on killing him. The police never got onto him since the only thing in common with his murders was that there was nothing in common. He would find these people through different sources, and usually they weren't even local.
He would pick a different way to kill each person, each time he would do it cheerily, singing a song, or humming a tune, completely unbefitting of his crime.. Sometimes he would shoot his targets by rifle from afar. Sometimes it was blunt force to the back of the head. Sometimes poison, sometimes suffocation, sometimes this way, sometimes that way. He was incredibly clean about it, and would never leave a trail. Because he killed without passion, and more out of compulsion, he was able to think clearly and coolly. It was his way of helping society out by cleansing it of its sickness.
Currently, he is living in an agreeable house with his wife, son, and daughter. He works in the marketing sector at a big corporation.
Powers: None
Equipment: Can vary oh so much. Clothes for sure though.
Weakness: None in particular that I can come up with.
(lawl, kinda long)
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Alignment: Good/evil?
Power Level: Mid Tier - Low (2)
Timeline: Modern
Appearance: Hair: A nice golden blonde hair, with some waviness to it. Overall straight.
Eyes: Blue
Skin: White
Build: Average, slightly lanky, but strong.
Attire: Usually some sort of business suit, maybe just a shirt and tie.
Height: 6'2"
Outstanding Features: None. He is completely unremarkable, other than an average looking, slightly charming man.
Personality: Prak is one of the nicest people you will meet, almost officiously so. However, he isn't officious, since, if you ask him to stop talking to you, he will certainly oblige. He goes out of his way, sacrificing his own happiness, to make others happy. He is cheery, friendly, and has a sort of skip to his step that makes you think he has no idea about what the real world is like.
He will not stand for cruelty though, it makes him sick. Sometimes physically. He's dependable, loyal, intelligent, and very selfless. He's also completely psychotic.
History: Prak was born with the name David Goodman. His mother died giving birth to him, but that didn't bother his father too much. Nothing seemed to really. He took everything humorously, rather too much. His father would get fired from job after job, and they largely lived off unemployment checks and welfare. He just took it all in stride. His father would actually try, best as he knew how, to be a good father to David, but the fact was...well he was just a horrible person. He laughed at other people's suffering, and laughed at just about everything you weren't supposed to laugh at. And David hated him. David did everything he could to not be like his father.
David made very high grades, top 10 in his class. He wasn't the most popular kid, but he had respect. Because of his overly nice attitude and more than modest scholarly achievements, he excelled in the school life. It was just fitting for him, and he wouldn't have minded if he were in school his whole life. David's only problem with his life was his father.
They got along not at all and this continued until David was 16. David was finally pushed over the edge when him and his father were in the car driving around one night. His dad was driving along, singing to some AC/DC song trying to coax David to join in. Distracted, he didn't notice that a guy was jaywalking across the road. He slammed on the breaks, but noticed too late. He connected with the man with a sickening thud. The guy was launched, rolling and skidding a bit, about 15 feet down the road, limp.
Both David and his father watched the man and their faces both looked like they were about to puke. While David actually did throw up, his father instead puked out a ton of laughter. Not an evil laugh, like when evil people laugh at how evil they are, but a laugh because he sincerely thought that hitting the man was hilarious. David seethed with loathing at this while he was busy messing up the floor of their car, and his vomiting only invoked more laughter from his father. David resigned himself at that time to kill his father, and was a lot cheerier after that. They drove away, his father had easily, and rather humorously (to him at least), committed a hit and run. Everything was all fun and games to him though.
David, about a week later, woke himself up during the night at their house. It was a small house, barely two bedrooms, and a living room/kitchen. It usually had a few roaches and spiders roaming around it too, but they had long gotten used to their roommates. David, cut himself a shirt and pants out of trash bags, and made a makeshift mask. He grabbed a one of their steak knives, and cheerily, while singing a song, he went into his father's bedroom.
His father awoke to him singing. "I wish-"
"What are you doing David?"
"-I knew what I know now..."
"David, what the hell-" and David had slashed his throat, and continued to sing, while stabbing him more.
"...When I was younger."
Stab, stab, stab.
"I wish,"
Stab, stab, stab.
"I,"
Stab, stab, stab.
"knew what I know now,"
Stab, stab, stab.
"when I was stronger."
After David had finished with his father, he had stabbed him 54 times. It wasn't that he felt especially passionate about the whole thing, it was more that he was trying to prove a point.
He took off his plastic outfit and stuffed it all in another plastic bag and double bagged it. He took the keys, put that bag in the trunk, and took everything else from the house he thought he might need. He dumped the bag in a dumpster across town, and sold the car. He bought a bus ticket to somewhere else and disappeared for a while. He changed his name to Prak about this time.
He got a college degree, and had to work a lot of night jobs to get it. He got a decent scholarship for his MBA too, but that still took work.
He eventually got into corporate, settled into a nuclear family, went to church every Sunday, was friendly at work, loving at home, and killed about 8 people a year. Not necessarily at any specific times, he would just spot a cruel person, here or there, take their name, and plan on killing him. The police never got onto him since the only thing in common with his murders was that there was nothing in common. He would find these people through different sources, and usually they weren't even local.
He would pick a different way to kill each person, each time he would do it cheerily, singing a song, or humming a tune, completely unbefitting of his crime.. Sometimes he would shoot his targets by rifle from afar. Sometimes it was blunt force to the back of the head. Sometimes poison, sometimes suffocation, sometimes this way, sometimes that way. He was incredibly clean about it, and would never leave a trail. Because he killed without passion, and more out of compulsion, he was able to think clearly and coolly. It was his way of helping society out by cleansing it of its sickness.
Currently, he is living in an agreeable house with his wife, son, and daughter. He works in the marketing sector at a big corporation.
Powers: None
Equipment: Can vary oh so much. Clothes for sure though.
Weakness: None in particular that I can come up with.
(lawl, kinda long)
