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{{cape
{{cape
|name        = The Bone Goliath
|name        = Bone Goliath
|alias      = <!-- if they go by another name, put it here or leave blank -->
|alias      = <!-- if they go by another name, put it here or leave blank -->
|civ_name    =  
|civ_name    =  
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|affiliation = none
|affiliation = none
|status      = active
|status      = active
|location    = Devilfish
|location    = devilfish


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Revision as of 06:46, 9 December 2020

Bone Goliath
Author /u/DocTheProfessor
Alignment villain
Affiliation none (devilfish)
PRT Classification Brute
Status active



Some people might known of a string of accidents and civilian injuries/deaths connected to a case 53 appearance in downtown Miami. The heretofore unnamed cape killed seven civilians and critically injured another four during the short window which they were in the public eye. Civilians are advised to stay away and call the PRT at first sight.


Character Sheet

Appearance

Covered in bone plates that leave a small amount of his body uncovered only for movement purposes. The plates accentuate muscles and abs, covering the end of his fingers in thimble-esqe caps. A large bone helmet that surrounds his head has two slits for eye holes, two vertical slits for nostrils, and a jagged half-healed section of bone that breaks apart to reveal his lipless mouth. When the mouth closes for long periods of time, it seals itself again. Areas of the body not covered by the bone armor are thick muscles with a tense texture.

Equipment and Resources

None

Skills and Specializations

• Expert Boxing and Mixed Martial Arts skills

• An out-of-place understanding of underground etiquette

• Parkour knowledge

Mentality

Constantly being in pain takes its toll, and it shows here in the form of aggressive behavior on top of violent tendencies. He accepted help once, and although still desperately wishing for help of any kind, it is hard for him to accept or trust said help.

He is generally well-meaning, but the path from thought to action is skewed, leaning to more impulsive actions than not. To earn him as a friend or comrade is to earn a relentless pursuer of any goal you may have.

Power

Trigger type: Coven, Vial Trigger


Body is covered in a dense layer of muscle and bone armor.


Bone Plating

The bone plates are attached directly to his muscles, and can take bullets from low caliber weaponry. They are durable enough to withstand his fists smashing through concrete with minor scratches, though sustained damage can overwhelm a specific plate and cause it to break, for a reference point the bone plates are as strong as the femur bone. Plates heal much slower than his muscles and flesh, repairing themselves underneath a layer of muscle before ripping out anew, underneath each bone plate is a small layer of an organic honeycomb structure for small shock absorption.


Enhanced Muscles

The muscles in his body are tightened and formed dozens of times more densely. This has increased benefits among the obvious, strength and mobility. He is capable of throwing around small cars with ease and busting through large concrete pillars with concerted effort.


Pyrrhic Regeneration

The regeneration is passive and unable to be actively turned on or off, a wound or small effect, no matter how insignificant or major, is healed eventually. A large wound is prioritized by the healing factor over smaller cumulative wounds or effects. The process in which the wounds heal is often painful, regrowing bones and bone plates are a slower process than flesh and muscle, as any tissue can heal itself in about a days time. Often taking multiple days at a time to regrow limbs. Three for an arm and four for legs.


Example

Breathing heavily, I looked down at where my arm used to be. The missing limb was cauterized by the laser that took it, but I could already see, feel, the healing kick in. I was safe for now, reduced to hiding in a back alley, breaking through a boarded up window into a decrepit, likely condemned, restaurant. I sat down to lay against the wall, and looked at my lost limb, staring and watching the process was fascinating as much as it was forcing me to wince and curse under my breath. First, the charred muscles fell to the ground like chipping paint. Then bone came next, followed by nerves and flesh, after that the the muscle, a lot of muscle. The elbow joint was still a piece of the same bone, but after the forearm was fully complete, I felt a jarring snap as the bone broke itself into a joint, the regeneration filling out the cartilegde. I couldn't help but shiver as my fingers were mine once more, the bone plating growing underneath the layers of my muscles, pushing their way to the top and breaking through a final layer. The entire process was painful, in a number, removed sort of way. . . . .


Another blast barely missed my head as I ran. Right, still getting chased by a Blaster. I ducked into an alleyway, finding a parked car next to a dumpster almost all the way to the next street. The alleyway was too big for a dumpster to have any kind of chance to hit from that range if I threw it behind me at the flying pursuer. So, with the car I went. I dropped low to the ground, and heaved. My muscles felt stronger somehow, and lifting the car without too great of difficulty, I turned and threw it just in time to hear a scream and another laser as the car was split neatly in half. Well, there goes that idea. Luckily, I was far gone by the time that happened, having turned and used my legs as springs, using long strides to practically throw myself down the street. Hopefully I wouldn't be bothered at the next place I stopped at. But I don't have to much faith in that kind of wishful thinking.

Backstory

Being a boxer was everything, the lights, the action, the pain, it was worth everyhting he had paid to get to the top for. His skills were top notch, he trained his body constantly, parkour, mountain climbing, anything. He gave everything he had for the climb to the top, forsaking all he had to take it further and higher. It was second only to his family. The reason he pursued this career was to garner some kind of attention from them, but his younger brother got all of it. He was a lawyer. a parahuman defense lawyer at that. He helped on some of the most important cases over the years, and he was damn good too. But after this final match, he would seal his debut fight deal. He would finally get the eyes on him that he deserved.


He was known for being ruthless, never pulling a punch, showing no mercy, and his opponent decided to do the same. What came was a bloody bout, knockdowns on both sides, and on the third round, it came to a peak. A hard blow to the unprotected side, and something inside felt like it came loose. Pain was his world, and it was his world even after the lights faded away with a second hit to the temple. The hours seemed to come and go, each one a blur. Then the doctors became clear, told him his career was over, told him he would likely never walk right again, and that the pain inside his chest would be there until the day he died. He held the tears in, and as the days passed, he never saw any family. All he got were 'Get Better Soon!' letters. They never even visited his hospital room. His so-called friends had been his sponsors, likely gone with his career. His feeble and ill-fated attempts at walking, or even getting out of his own hospital bed destroyed what hope he had left, and he broke down into tears.


He burned through his money, all the hundreds of thousands he had won and rightfully earned, he set alight in his frantic wild-eyed search for some rumor. He had heard it, same as most others, but what he did get, unlike others, was progress. A name, Coven. A way to contact? No. But his search did not stop. Bribes for information, trying to pay a few rogues to gather information, anything. Then, the day came. He lost the last of his fortune, and what did he have to show for it? Nothing, really. The reality hit him harder than he expected. Nothing. it always came to that, didn't it? What he did, it never amounted to anything. Like before, he broke down, the last vestiges of hope, the ember he held onto, finally burning out.


Everything he had done, and for what? Hadn't he done everything right? Why should he be punished like this? Why?! Why wasn't he worth anything? It was everyone else! Everyone else should be punished! Those who had doomed him to this path of bull-headed self destruction. Thats when he saw through the tears a figure sitting on the end of his bed. He wiped the tears from his eyes quickly, though they were replaced just as fast.


"What would you give? For your revenge? For your chance?"


His mouth opened, then closed, opening again to repeat the process like a fish out of water. Then his brows furrowed, his lips set into a firm line. His eyes burning with passion and fury.


"All you will take."