Name: Byron Young (Formerly Barack Osama)
Age : 27
Abilities:
Carries a empty double barrel sawed of shotgun, concealed .50 AE pistol, and a variety of grenades (also concealed)
Bionic Augments implanted throughout his body (they stick out of the back of his arms and calfs, but are concealed by his pants and shirt.) they grant :
Is strong enough to lift 2000 pounds.
Can run up to 40mph
Can accelerate his running extremely quick.
Faster reaction times. (ex seeing a man starting to pull down on the trigger when in normal perception you wouldn't be able to see him pulling down on it)
Control of his own neural system
Can store electricity making contact on his body to power up his augments (they can get overloaded and release a shockwave most likely critically damaging byron
Thermal radar that can locate up to 2500 feet.
Weaknesses:
His body is completely human other than the metal in some part of his limbs.
Can have trouble against blades and ranged weaponry because he doesn't have a special form of defense against them.
Has PTSD caused by murder of his family.
Days later after the augment implants.
There would be a knock on the door.
Michonne : "Coming!!"
Michonne would eagerly run to the door, expecting her husband.
She'd open the door, only to see a silenced ak47 carbine pointed at her face.
Michonne would scream, only to be silenced by the bullets entering her skull.
Her son Tyrone would run out of his room, in his mickey mouse jammies rubbing his eyes.
"Mommy..?"
This was the last word said in the Osama family.
Barack came home, falling to his knees as he saw the police surrounding the house, carrying the dead bodies out.
Tears would run down his face.
Police man 1 : "I'm sorry for your loss; there is also a problem, no evidence was left to confirm who it was."
Barack would not speak, he would be engulfed by the sorrow and the pain he felt inside.
Hours later that night...
Barack was in an apartment laying down on the soft bed.
He heard a knock on the door.
He instantly got up, looking outside.
What he saw was a jeep for a certain private militia.
He jumped out of the window, though he was hurt from the glass, he sprinted as fast as he could with the augments.
Within seconds, he was gone. He now knew who murdered his family.
Many months pass by of him running.
Barack saw a sign as he roamed the empty streets.
"ROCK HARD GLADIATORS, JOIN NOW AND BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF PEOPLE EXCEPT FLLFFL."
Barack : "I've heard of this...these are where abnormal people go to fight.."
Barack thought to himself.
Barack : "I could possibly blend in with the crowd in these tournaments..since everyone is quite odd in that environment.
Barack : "It's decided, I'm joining the RHG tournaments."
He got a facial, changed his name and everything.
He signed up for the tournaments, waiting for his first battle.
Personality:
Though he acted quite rash before his family was destroyed, roaming the streets for months taught him how to be calm and smart.
He is now a calm person with a short temper. He will only kill if his life is threatened. If PTSD is triggered, he will go into an extremely
enraged state while muttering crazy and random words, usually of memories with his family.
Appearance:
Light tan skin color. Slicked up brown hair. Red checkered shirt with hidden padded kevlar underneath (can withstand up to 9mm.) a white undershirt with sleeves going to his wrist.
black pants and brown boat shoes. One brown eye and one blue eye.
Byron would be laying in a kevlar sleeping bag that would be tied to a crown of the tree, it was a few days before his first RHG battle.
It was nighttime, the wind was blowing and it would be completely silent except for the occasional car passing by.
There would be a gunshot, bullet hitting the side of the sleeping bag and bruising Byron minorly.
Byron would quietly grunt in pain, stealthily sliding down the tree from the opposite side the bullet was fired.
He'd locate the assassin from his thermal signal.
As soon as the assassin was seen moving on the radar, he'd sprint over his fast speeds, tackling the man.
He'd unsling his sawed off shotgun, pressing it against the mans nose, breaking it.
Byron : "Move and you're dead."
The assassin groaned in pain.
He suddenly sprang up, attempting to disarm Byron.
Byron would simply avoid the move, smashing the assassin in the temple with his sawed up, knocking him out.
He would leave the assassin there, running as quickly as he could knowing backup would arrive.
He turned a corner, stopping, panting heavily.
He looked around the corner, seeing a squad of 5 heavily armed men in the area he was just at.
He sigh in relief.
Byron would think to himself
Byron : "Thank god I got out in time.."
He'd continue walking towards the destination of his RHG battle.
Byron : "Hm, maybe I should get a gun. If he was more skilled than that I would've been in trouble."
He'd walk over to the local gunstore, showing his gun license and getting a .50 Desert Eagle.
Byron would hand the man remainder of his money, only getting back 50 dollars.
Byron : "Thank you."
He'd walk out, ready for his first battle.
Battles:none
Points: 0/0/0/0
its 296 words but close enough
