|Civilian name||Garret Todd|
Equipment and Resources
Ornamental, well kept, finely sharpened, dagger(with sheath)
Black, spray painted, hockey mask(bottom half of mask broken, full mouth exposed)
Black hoody(sleeves cut off)
Black hiking boots
Skills and Specializations
Performing actions without hands.
Dislikes accepting help from others, doesn’t condone violence or mistreatment of animals and people, self loathing
While his power is activated any flesh that is exposed or becomes exposed has a full length, abnormally strong, arm grow over it. Each arm will last 1-2 hours before it turns to ash exposing the previously covered wound. As more arms grow he loses some motor function and self control. By 17 arms he’s frenzied and out of control and by 32 arms he can no longer move. A wound on an arm will still grow into an arm but if an arm is severed the missing length of arm will just grow back. If his brain capacity is increased somehow he should be able to retain control of his arms and himself for longer.
Born with phocomelia (no arms) he grew up unable to do most things himself and had to count on his mother to assist him in almost everything. Garret was unfazed by his disability until he began schooling and understood how much he was unable to do that others could, he became spiteful and prone to tantrums as a result. By the time he reached high school he was used to inconsequential mockery and taunting but loathed himself for being born a cripple. Regular bullying plagued garret but he remained unfazed by others words as it was nothing he didn’t already know. He was around 16 when he was being targeted worse than usual, it seems the bullies were tired of Garret’s dismissal. The trio held down garret and taped his legs together, taunting him all the while. By this point he was frustrated at himself for being unable to do anything but still he ignored the three idiots. Angered even further one of the boys whipped out a rusty pocket knife and began to carve cripple into the where Garret’s arms should have been. One of the boys reeled away sick at his friends brutality. But garret was really angry now. “What could a useless cripple do to stop three muscular boys”. Frenzied, garret bolted his head forwards into the nose of the boys-the only way he had ever expressed his anger was by hitting things with his head. Even after smashing that idiots nose Garret’s anger only grew. “weakling, worthless,crippled,cancerous, parasitic growth who can’t even comprehend the idea of looking after himself” spat the boy with the bloody nose. Garret listened very closely to those words and they looped in his head. He couldn’t agree more. His rage reached a level reflecting his self loathing and boiled at the edge of his consciousness. His fury flooded from his mind and the word cripple carved into his flesh burned as an arm grew from it as if his body was answering his cries. Garret had nothing against the bullies, they were what they were, but he needed to vent. Garret plunged his new left hand deep into the boys throat who was crouching in front of him. He firmly grabbed the bulkiest part of his tounge at the back of the boys mouth and ripped it out ruthlessly. Blood pooled around the boys feet as he shook and squealed. The other two boys previously frozen In shock were knocked to the ground as Garret swept their feet with his arm. He grabbed the throat of one of the boys and squeezed tightly while simultaneously biting, hard, into the last boys neck. The metallic taste of blood dances on Garret’s tounge. He had to go. Garret erupted into a sprint as he realised what he’s done. He was sure his mom could help, she always had. He barged through his own front door after about an hour of running with blood still dripping from his one arm his mother sat at the couch direct in front of him. “Mom please, I did something bad!” His mother screamed unable to recognise her sons blood soaked face and after all her son didn’t have an arm. Garret froze unable to comprehend the situation, his anger welling up inside him again. He approach his mother as she stood up and began to back away, pleading for her life through gasps of air. Furious, Garret froze and shook in his place. His mother was the only one who ever loved him and now she was looking at him as if he was a monster. Now in the kitchen his mother grabbed a knife out of its block and pointed the tip at Garret. He got angrier. Garret loved his mother dearly and had learnt from today’s events the amount self control he lacked he walked hurriedly towards the door, his arm and mouth still dripping of the boys blood. As he turned his back to leave he heard rapid steps behind him, he’d never placed his mother as the heroic type. He turned around just in time to see his mother running towards him knife in hand. Garret turned just in time to see his mother slip forwards in a small pool of blood that had gathered on the polished wooden floors. She grunted as she impaled herself on the knife in her hands and lay on her side, panting. Garret stood frozen. Endless noise filled his head as he began a slow giggle at what would be his mother’s death. It was a rather comical way to go. Tears ran down Garret’s cheeks as he continued to giggle. His arm went cold and slowly turned to ash before him leaving the same stump he was born with, the word cripple still carved across its breadth. He smiled a sombre smile as he left the apartment and slowly closed the door behind him and paced into a nearby alley. This was the best remaining option. As he shifted through the dark alleyway the realisation finally dawned upon him. “I’m a cape”.