Post by Juggers on Jun 1, 2006 18:21:42 GMT -5
Name: Cain Marko
Codename(s): Juggernaut
Affiliation: Brotherhood
Age: 37
Height: 6’10”
Weight: 600lbs
Hair Color: Brown (Though kept shaven)
Eye Color: Blue
Appearance:
Cain is large. Very, very large. Nobody could mistake him for anything other than what he is – a mutant powerhouse of sinew and muscle. He keeps his hair shaved to stop it from getting in his face, because long hair is for hippies, poofs and rock-stars and because he doesn’t want to get helmet hair. Though he may occasionally opt for more casual attire (he could keep a Wide and Tall store in business almost single-handedly) he is most often seen half naked, for comforts sake more than anything else. He currently still bears a strapped iron harness, an effort by his late military captors to restrain him, and still wears the array with a peculiar sort of pride. Nothing can stop the Juggernaut.
Personality:
Cain is often mistaken as stupid by those foolish enough to be judgmental of a giant. Cain is not stupid. He is coarse, blunt and direct, something that people fond of flowery language often perceive as stupidity. Coupled with his somewhat thuggish exterior it comes as no surprise that few ever to bother to ask the Juggernaut an opinion on strategy. For his part Cain regards many of his peers as little better than self-important gas-bags and will often insert deliberately provocative or obvious suggestions into the proceedings. He does so in the hope that people will shut the hell up and get on with it. Or start a fight. Either way Cain will be happy.
Powers and Abilities:
The Juggernaut lives up to his name. He possesses almost unlimited physical strength and resistance to injury and once he starts moving, nothing on Gods green Earth is going to stop him. Unless he decides to stop. Which is always a disappointment.
History:
Cain Marko, son of Dr. Keith and Sharon Marko was born in Barking Hospital on the outskirts of London. Things pretty much went downhill from there. His mother died in a car accident at the age of three and his father, once a respected doctor, never recovered from the loss. He turned to drink, and in a few short years became a fully fledged alcoholic most often found in the east end bars until closing time. Some nights he never even bothered to come home. The nights he did return became something to be feared for the young Cain as his fathers drunkenness often turned to violence without thought or warning.
During the day Cain attempted to attend school. Mostly he failed. He was large for his age and an unusual appearance during school years is a terrible curse for a child. Initially this lead to him being subject to bullying and though the school nurse made every attempt to care for the often-bruised little boy it was clear that she was not going to reach him without intervention at home. Cain would never talk about home. He put off returning home after school for as long as he could, taking long diversions when possible or lingering around shops. Both allowed him to avoid his father but equally placed him at the mercy of his peers.
And children can be relentless.
Eventually he began skipping school altogether, opting instead to spend his days wandering the streets of London, a grim faced boy in a grim faced city. He learned much on the streets. The most important of which was how to fight. Finally unable to endure the taunts and jibes he lashed out, to devastating effect. The quiet, introverted boy realised for the first time that his size gave him strength and strength was power. After that, other children stopped bullying him.
By the age of sixteen the boot was quite firmly on the other foot. Cain Marko was master of his own street gang and ruled with an iron hand. At night he waged clandestine war against the other fledgling east end gangs and often emerged victorious. Cain was stronger than them and he knew it. And now it was his fathers turn to bear the bruises.
A year later his escapades attracted the notice of a real criminal. A street fight organiser by the name of Nick Smithson introduced a young Cain Marko to the bare knuckle arena. And beneath a railway bridge surrounded by jeering thugs Cain became something more than human. The sudden manifestation of his mutation won him the fight instantly. It also killed his opponent. Shocked and confused the young Cain decided that was his cue for a hasty departure.
He used his ill-gotten gains to buy a ticket to America, the supposed land of opportunity and disappeared into the west. Some years later a series of bank robberies heralded the return to Cain Marko, branded “an unstoppable juggernaut” by the authorities attempting to apprehend him. The Juggernaut was born.
For long years Cain did as he pleased without a care or worry. He took what he needed and damn the world to hell. Nothing and nobody could stop him. Until William Stryker came with his adamantium prison. He probably would have spent the rest of his days in a small, unbreakable box.
But a powerful, kind old gentleman let him out.
Sample post:
The Juggernaut ran. Behind him absolute chaos was consuming Alcatraz island and though Cain loved chaos he had just seen three people rendered into dust. That had put things into perspective. He was currently nursing the mother of all headaches and swearing at volume about what he was going to do to that prissy little X-bitch if he ever got his hands on her.
Right now he had one hand full of Pyro. The young man hung limp under his left arm, a thin dribble of blood trickling from his nose. Bloody kids these days were so fragile. He knocked a Winnebago flying and the vehicle pitched over the side of the sagging bridge. There was a brief scream and then a satisfying splash.
Bloody idiots should have got out of the way. He stepped on a Porsche which folded obligingly under his weight and used it as a springboard to leap several more cars choking the road.
His landing cracked the pavement and sent chips of concrete pattering off the nearby vehicles.
Cain wondered as he ran why he had bothered to scoop up the unconscious young Pyro. Under normal circumstances Juggernaut wouldn’t have given a damn about what happened to anybody other than himself, but something in the arrogant lad’s manner reminded him a little of himself in his younger years.
Only he hadn’t been such a bloody wuss. And he hadn’t been able to live it easy in some big mansion. In fact he was nothing bloody like him!
Juggernaut shook his helmeted head and ran on.
Screenname(s): Juggers
Email: Blood4bloodgod@hotmal.com
IMs: Above address on MSN
RP Experiance: Kaldara RP, Several Fantasy RP Systems (Links on demand)
Codename(s): Juggernaut
Affiliation: Brotherhood
Age: 37
Height: 6’10”
Weight: 600lbs
Hair Color: Brown (Though kept shaven)
Eye Color: Blue
Appearance:
Cain is large. Very, very large. Nobody could mistake him for anything other than what he is – a mutant powerhouse of sinew and muscle. He keeps his hair shaved to stop it from getting in his face, because long hair is for hippies, poofs and rock-stars and because he doesn’t want to get helmet hair. Though he may occasionally opt for more casual attire (he could keep a Wide and Tall store in business almost single-handedly) he is most often seen half naked, for comforts sake more than anything else. He currently still bears a strapped iron harness, an effort by his late military captors to restrain him, and still wears the array with a peculiar sort of pride. Nothing can stop the Juggernaut.
Personality:
Cain is often mistaken as stupid by those foolish enough to be judgmental of a giant. Cain is not stupid. He is coarse, blunt and direct, something that people fond of flowery language often perceive as stupidity. Coupled with his somewhat thuggish exterior it comes as no surprise that few ever to bother to ask the Juggernaut an opinion on strategy. For his part Cain regards many of his peers as little better than self-important gas-bags and will often insert deliberately provocative or obvious suggestions into the proceedings. He does so in the hope that people will shut the hell up and get on with it. Or start a fight. Either way Cain will be happy.
Powers and Abilities:
The Juggernaut lives up to his name. He possesses almost unlimited physical strength and resistance to injury and once he starts moving, nothing on Gods green Earth is going to stop him. Unless he decides to stop. Which is always a disappointment.
History:
Cain Marko, son of Dr. Keith and Sharon Marko was born in Barking Hospital on the outskirts of London. Things pretty much went downhill from there. His mother died in a car accident at the age of three and his father, once a respected doctor, never recovered from the loss. He turned to drink, and in a few short years became a fully fledged alcoholic most often found in the east end bars until closing time. Some nights he never even bothered to come home. The nights he did return became something to be feared for the young Cain as his fathers drunkenness often turned to violence without thought or warning.
During the day Cain attempted to attend school. Mostly he failed. He was large for his age and an unusual appearance during school years is a terrible curse for a child. Initially this lead to him being subject to bullying and though the school nurse made every attempt to care for the often-bruised little boy it was clear that she was not going to reach him without intervention at home. Cain would never talk about home. He put off returning home after school for as long as he could, taking long diversions when possible or lingering around shops. Both allowed him to avoid his father but equally placed him at the mercy of his peers.
And children can be relentless.
Eventually he began skipping school altogether, opting instead to spend his days wandering the streets of London, a grim faced boy in a grim faced city. He learned much on the streets. The most important of which was how to fight. Finally unable to endure the taunts and jibes he lashed out, to devastating effect. The quiet, introverted boy realised for the first time that his size gave him strength and strength was power. After that, other children stopped bullying him.
By the age of sixteen the boot was quite firmly on the other foot. Cain Marko was master of his own street gang and ruled with an iron hand. At night he waged clandestine war against the other fledgling east end gangs and often emerged victorious. Cain was stronger than them and he knew it. And now it was his fathers turn to bear the bruises.
A year later his escapades attracted the notice of a real criminal. A street fight organiser by the name of Nick Smithson introduced a young Cain Marko to the bare knuckle arena. And beneath a railway bridge surrounded by jeering thugs Cain became something more than human. The sudden manifestation of his mutation won him the fight instantly. It also killed his opponent. Shocked and confused the young Cain decided that was his cue for a hasty departure.
He used his ill-gotten gains to buy a ticket to America, the supposed land of opportunity and disappeared into the west. Some years later a series of bank robberies heralded the return to Cain Marko, branded “an unstoppable juggernaut” by the authorities attempting to apprehend him. The Juggernaut was born.
For long years Cain did as he pleased without a care or worry. He took what he needed and damn the world to hell. Nothing and nobody could stop him. Until William Stryker came with his adamantium prison. He probably would have spent the rest of his days in a small, unbreakable box.
But a powerful, kind old gentleman let him out.
Sample post:
The Juggernaut ran. Behind him absolute chaos was consuming Alcatraz island and though Cain loved chaos he had just seen three people rendered into dust. That had put things into perspective. He was currently nursing the mother of all headaches and swearing at volume about what he was going to do to that prissy little X-bitch if he ever got his hands on her.
Right now he had one hand full of Pyro. The young man hung limp under his left arm, a thin dribble of blood trickling from his nose. Bloody kids these days were so fragile. He knocked a Winnebago flying and the vehicle pitched over the side of the sagging bridge. There was a brief scream and then a satisfying splash.
Bloody idiots should have got out of the way. He stepped on a Porsche which folded obligingly under his weight and used it as a springboard to leap several more cars choking the road.
His landing cracked the pavement and sent chips of concrete pattering off the nearby vehicles.
Cain wondered as he ran why he had bothered to scoop up the unconscious young Pyro. Under normal circumstances Juggernaut wouldn’t have given a damn about what happened to anybody other than himself, but something in the arrogant lad’s manner reminded him a little of himself in his younger years.
Only he hadn’t been such a bloody wuss. And he hadn’t been able to live it easy in some big mansion. In fact he was nothing bloody like him!
Juggernaut shook his helmeted head and ran on.
Screenname(s): Juggers
Email: Blood4bloodgod@hotmal.com
IMs: Above address on MSN
RP Experiance: Kaldara RP, Several Fantasy RP Systems (Links on demand)
