Old Profile In Case You Still Wanted to See (Click to Show)
Weaknesses (Click to Show)
Spoiler (Click to Show)
He stands a little over six feet tall, with lightly set shoulders, thin but muscular arms, a well developed midsection, and equally so legs.
When in his residence, Abbas wears normal-esque clothing. Shorts, sometimes sweats, t-shirts, and flip flops make up most of his attire.
When out and about, or engaged in battle, he wears a large, sand colored tunic, almost a robe, with two slits along the sides to provide a better chance to move. The hem of the shirt falls to about his mid-shin and is torn in multiple places along the edges, signifying its long time spent in the desert or in combat. Underneath the tunic Abbas wears a pair of brown Sunnah pants, that is, a pair of baggy pants that bunch up around the ankles and have a loose amount of fabric hanging in between the legs, just under the groin region. These are tucked into his shin high, brown colored leather boots.
A pair of light, finger-less leather gauntlets extend up to just short of his elbow, where he tucks the sleeves of his tunic into said armor. A large scarf is tied around his neck and, if he wishes to conceal his identity, extends the fabric into a headwrap, shading his face and leaving a small visor of vision for himself to see.
He carries his Staff diagonally across his back, kept on with a strip of leather wrapped over his chest, under his right armpit, and over his left shoulder. His scimitars are kept in a single sheath on his waist. His bow, when he takes it with him, is kept on his back, with the drawstring facing out from his chest and the wood across his back. It’s facing the same way his Staff is, that is, diagonally across his spine.
Also, through centuries of battles, conflict, and fighting, Abbas has quite a scarred body. These vary, some are wide and short, others are extend across his entire torso and are extremely thin. The only place that doesn't seem to be scarred is his face, aside from his nose, which possesses a very small, hard to notice white scar across its bridge. His hands are calloused, but not scarred.
Approximate Appearance (Click to Show)
Spoiler (Click to Show)
While not squeaky clean in his ethics, his multiple cases of killing criminals proving as such, Abbas maintains a high moral standard, killing only if he deems the criminal worth it, and for the most part only fighting if he's sure there's no alternative. Besides this, Abbas doesn't have much trust for mankind. He doesn't trust the government of the country he lives in, nor does he trust the individuals inside. To put it bluntly, he's hateful of humanity's flaws, even though he has them all as well, but tries his best to make the world a better place.[/spoiler]
Spoiler (Click to Show)
He just knew that crime could happen wherever he went, whenever he went there. That morning was proving a fine example, as the Immortal was chasing down a pair of bank robbers in their getaway car. Another typical morning, he guessed…
Did Abbas have his own car he drove in? Yes… In a manner of speaking. His car was a horse, seven and a half feet tall, with a cream colored coat and a flowing black mane, strong enough to tote a four thousand pound vehicle up a steep hill.
Also, did he mention that his steed, his name was Jabbar by the way, was fast? Really fast? Fast enough to catch a car traveling a good fifty miles per hour down a city street, all while dodging traffic? Yeah, well he was, fast enough to do all of that.
As he pulled up beside the thieves’ car, he wrapped his left hand in the reins as tightly as he could, patting Jabbar on the side of the neck. “Keep it up buddy.”
The horse continued to sprint forward while Abbas braced his right heel against his steed’s flank and leaned out, his head coming within a foot or so of the driver’s side window. He reached out and knocked on the glass with his free hand and smiled into the visor at the criminals.
Beginning to roll down, Abbas made out the barrel of a gun and tilted his head back as the air exploded by his left ear, a bullet whizzing by his cheek, the air rippling alongside it. “That’s rude!” He called into the vehicle, “You didn’t even give me a chance to talk!”
The burglar growled and fired again, the bullet again being dodged by Abbas. He shrugged and reached his right hand into the cockpit, balling it into a fist. He gave the driver a few quick strikes to the nose, and the car veered to the right, forcing his arm out from the window.
The vehicle smashed into another on its opposite side, coming back at Jabbar and his rider. Abbas’ steed took a few strides to the left to give them some breathing room, as well as to allow Abbas to climb back atop his mount. He slowly stood up, with the balls of his feet on the horse’s back.
The Arab leapt into the air between him and the car, landing with a thud on the metal frame. The car instantly veered to the right again, this time more controlled. Abbas gripped either side, attempting to keep a hold on the roof. “Trying to throw me huh?” He called to no one in particular.
As soon as the car began to steady, even slightly, Abbas leapt to his feet and slammed his leather boots down onto the ceiling. He swiftly snatched his bow off his back and drew the string, having quickly nocked an arrow. He leaned off the side of the vehicle and took aim at its front left tire.
Releasing the draw, Abbas’ arrow flew through the air and slammed into the rubber wheel, instantly bursting it and causing the car to skid to the left. The Immortal stumbled to the left, almost falling off, but managed to stab another arrow into the roof, its tip puncturing the steel.
Using his momentum, Abbas flung himself back onto the roof, just in time too, because a second before, the car had begun to roll. Planting himself quickly, the Arab shifted his feet accordingly, setting them back onto the roof whenever he could as the vehicle wrenched itself apart while toppling fender over bender.
After a few moments filled with the sounds of tearing metal and screaming from the robbers, Abbas decided, then leapt from the roof back onto the concrete. He tucked and rolled, absorbing most of the impact as he landed.
The car came to a stop with a tremendous thud on its wheels, followed by both doors being kicked out and the criminals, dazed and shaken, crawling from the wreck. They still had their guns, and they were starting to adopt angrier looks.
The one Abbas had punched glared daggers at him, “You think you’re some kind of hero, huh?” He mocked, beginning to raise his pistol. Acting with deft precision and speed, the Immortal drew and slashed one of his scimitars down in a vertical arc, slicing the weapon in two.
Abbas sniffed and wiped his nose with his opposite hand. “You guys are classic…” He said arrogantly. The other crook growled and began to raise his gun, an AK47, and his opponent acted just as quickly as before, hurling his own weapon at the man.
The steel punctured the criminal’s shoulder, sending a spurt of blood into the air. He screamed, dropped his weapon, and Abbas rushed forward, slamming an elbow into the man’s temple while ripping the blade free of his flesh.
The crook went down hard, and Abbas heard a few pebbles crunch behind him, spurring him to duck. His instincts proved handy, as a jagged piece of steel rushed past the back of his head as he bent over to avoid it.
Jumping away from the new, third criminal holding his makeshift club, Abbas smiled, “Still kicking huh?” With this, he reached for his staff, only for the man to swing his own weapon down as hard as he could. The Arab tossed his scimitar into the air, batted the blow away with his gauntleted forearm, and fully brought out his wooden Bo staff.
His enemy reared the weapon back again to strike, but by then Abbas had caught his sword and fully drawn his staff. Catching the steel on his own, he swept the wood across the man’s ankles and sent him tumbling down onto the concrete.
Abbas spun the hilt of his scimitar to face down, then stabbed the blade down in