Vexus "Two" Cheet {Weapon Meister}

Weapon Meister



Basic Info

Name:  Vexus "Two" Cheet
Nicknames:  Vex, Vee
Age:  15
Gender:  Male
Birth-date:  November 18th
Love Interest:  none.
Astrological Symbol:  Scorpio (Sign of the "oldest souls", known for their desire to triumph and ability to survive against all opposition)
Soul Color:  Deep Orange

Appearance:  
REF

Vexus appears as a well formed child who stands at the acme of nearly 62 inches with a weight of 99 pounds. He has striking, usually sly or narrowed features, that easily display his enigmatic and typically insolent attitude. He possesses deep eyes of haughty and sardonic quality that are represented in color as a midnight blue. However, his eyes are not always showing negative feeling, and are actually commonly wide with a child-like charm. He has short, dark violet hair that is glossy in appearance with wedges of darker violet spaced throughout. The tufts of hair halt at the bottom of his ears and he has a full set of bangs that are pointed and hang just above his eyes, becoming more dense in the midst and sides of his angular face.  

Although he is not without muscle tone, his body structure is slim and flexible, obviously built for speed rather than sheer force. In fact, his nimble form and flexibility allows him to jump, flip, and slide to his advantage and this makes him very hard to catch. His skin is lightly hued and unblemished with little to no color variation throughout and he has a voice that is a charming, high-pitched purr. He also has a branding of what looks like angel wings on his left palm given to him involuntarily by the greedy criminal organization who captured him in the all too recent past. In obvious embarrassment, he is never seen without either medical bandages or a pitch-black wristlet wrapped around his left palm, the covering placed in the middle of his hand to still allow complete finger movement.

VEXUS'S BRAND SYMBOL

Personality:

From the outside, Vexus seems a very serious boy. His obvious independence makes him hard to get close to and he looks toward few for help, nor does he search for someone to follow. He operates alone. He appears polite and refined, always sticking to his own way of doing things and respecting other people's chosen actions and decisions, even if they are contradicting with his own. Even though this shows little of his true colors, a person walking away from a two minute conversation with this careful boy will certainty get some of these impressions; this is not always the case.

Vexus is truly a cautious and accepting character, but he also has a strong inclination to be sarcastic and mocking, whether it be friendly or maliciously directed. He does this without second thoughts and can sometimes lead him down the road of being brutally honest, but his quick-witted mind has its advantages. With his sharp tongue and intellect, Vexus is able to use both of these for speedy recovery on the battlefield and in everyday conversations as well as to worm his way out of many dooming situations. He has a strong mind, in both will and intelligence. A deep-rooted persistence and determination is distilled inside him and this shows visibly within his stubborn and headstrong courses of action.

When odds are looking bleak and victory is slipping from his grasp, will Vexus back down? Never. When the going gets tough, does he get going? Not at all. No, Vexus will always bite the bullet and bear though it. He isn't the one to tell another what they are and are not capable of and he is not doubtful of his own potential. His confidence is not clearly visible among his mess of other traits, but it is sound and unyielding, not easy to shatter. He has a temper that does not surface often but when it does, he looses all composition, commonly causing him to make rash decisions.

He has a slightly darker outlook on life, despite his usual hopeful tone to things. This is because of his unlucky past as he lost everything that was ever important to him simply because of other peoples' acts of selfishness. Because of this, he has a bitter brooding and sadness under his skin that he can't control. These emotions are the prime factor of his rare nervousness that is demonstrated whenever he his waiting or anticipating something dearly. He hates to be incarcerated in any way, as he was kept prisoner against his will in his past and it brings him back to bad experiences.

When someone does manage to befriend this troublesome boy, Vexus is transformed completely. He becomes extremely loyal, never wanting to leave their side, and whenever a buddy is feeling down, he immediately gives it his best attempts to cheer them up and learn what is wrong. He will never abandon a friend and will stop at nothing to assist them, even if it means trouble for himself. It is hard to reach this point with Vexus, however, as he is commonly mistrusting and distant and takes to others slowly, but it is worth the while. In the end, he may be hard to believe, and, perhaps, a little hard to understand, but he is not one to leave a friend misinformed or alone in the face of danger.

Background:

I was born to a wealthy family in England fifteen years ago. I was first born to my family, my brother, Neil, came a few years after and finally my sister, Zarra. My name, Vexus, came from my grandfather's nickname he acquired in the military. I liked him, for he gave me my name and truly was a good guy, but I saw him rarely since his PTSD from the Gulf War had made him too potentially to hang around. My father also worked in the government, but I doubt in the military field, still I never found out; my mother, on the other hand, was once a nurse. The early years of my life were boring and uneventful to say the least.

I was a fast learner as a child and I can remember admiring my superiors greatly. In school, I was always the head of the group, I didn't just assume this position, I sort of just ended up there and no one said otherwise. I was quite the jokester and while I gave many an awful time with my smart mouth, I eventually learned when and where to hold my tongue. My grades varied with my patience, but were on average quite impressive. As I became older, I gained a few new traits. I learned more on how the world worked, how to be patient, everything. And by the age of fourteen, I thought I knew everything there was to know in the world and nothing was a surprise any longer. Turns out, I was very wrong . . .

The day everything changed was a still, quiet and calm afternoon and I was walking home after school like I did everyday around that time, knowing my parents and little siblings would be waiting for me when I got home. I was passing by some type a celebration, a business meeting perhaps. I had my headphones in and was walking down the train tracks that would lead me home when I noticed them waving. The people on the hill had stopped their festivities and were all looking at me. These waves were not the friendly sort usually seen upon greeting, they were urgent and panicked as if they had no time. I felt the vibrations from under my feet, vibrations that shook the entire ground, and I froze. I froze, just stood there like a complete idiot as the train neared.

The people on the hill were screaming now, but none of them made a movement toward me as they looked on. I remember dropping my iPod and wrenching my headphones from my ears and turning to look at the metal beast as it charged me. I still didn't move, I let it get closer, and closer, until the next second it would be upon me. I watched as I braced myself in preparation of impact, but the impact never came. In a trice, I was standing nose to nose with a motionless train. I felt like I had been shocked with a load of static electricity and adrenaline was already kicking in. I took one look around me before running away.

They were waiting for me when I got home. They had burned my house down with my family still inside. I still can't bring myself to imagine what they must have felt; the house was still smoldering when I arrived. There were no neighbors (we lived in a house built alone on a hill in the middle of nowhere, as father liked the quiet), and I was doubtful any authorities could possibly have known in the small amount of time it took the house to come down in ashes. The men surrounding what was once my home were cautious as they moved toward me, light on their feet. They must have seen me use my superpower and wanted me for it, but I wished no part of it, so I attacked. I didn't hesitate like I did with the train, I wouldn't let them take me without a good struggle first. I managed to land a few blows on the one nearest, but there were too many of them. Before I'd knew it, I was bound by the wrists and about my legs and finally, gagged. I remember tears running down my face before I was knocked unconscious.

I later woke in the bottom of a ship, aching and bound to the side of the wall. Metal braces reinforced with tight ropes which were tied around my neck, wrists, waist, and legs. I was in a sitting position with my legs stretched out in front of me, my arms were held at my sides at nearly a 90 degree angle above my head with my back against the wall. A burning sensation in my left hand claimed my every thought and I knew something awful must had happened to it, although I could not turn my head to see it. There was a small, circular window by my head, and if I turned just right, I could see outside. Right then, all I saw was open ocean and part of a starlit sky.

They left me like this for the entire night and the whole rest of the next day, the only human interaction I was given was from a ugly, block-headed women who entered my prison only to force a glass of water down my throat before leaving. Then the hazel-eyed women and the sailor came. They explained together (though I do recall the man talking much more than the women, for she obviously disliked the situation) that they belonged to the 'Burning Wheel' a criminal organization who sold humans and other goods illegally to make their living. I asked them what that made me, and I was struck by the ill-tempered sailor, my only response was my badly stifled whimper at the pain the man's hand caused me. The women explained that we would port in three weeks and warned me not to treat my new owners badly when they retrieved me. I spat at the floor in disgust as they turned to leave. Then a miraculous thing happened.

The hazel-eyed freak turned to the oversized man and looked in my direction briefly before turning back to the sailor. She told him in a loud whisper that she wished I be bound in a less cruel way and rather I be chained to the wall instead, since she pitied any creature in such a defenseless state. I liked her a little more after that, despite myself. Aboard the ship I spent many of my waking moments looking out my tiny window above my head. I looked out of it so much that I seemed to always have a pain in my neck. I loved to watch the stars when it was night and they became the only thing I could rely on, at least they would be there every time the sun sank behind the waves.

I hated my confinement as much as I hated those confining me. I had thought the cruel sailor had forgotten what the hazel-eyed women had said, but on the fifth day, a few men came into my cell and held me tightly as they made adjustments to my binds. After a long hour, the men had tied a chain around one of my legs that was drilled into the ship's wall at its base and placed my hands in shackles. They gave me a swift injection with a needle saying it was to help me from becoming sea sick and left. They didn't tell me the medicine also made me sleep.

I have no recollection of how many days I lay sleeping in the bottom of that boat, but when I woke, I had bigger problems to worry with. The cruel, haggard-faced sailor had entered my cell and was walking toward me slowly. As quickly as someone could blink, I stood up from where I lay. I was a wonderful feeling to be able to move again, however it came with a painful stiffness. I glowered at the man, and was almost as surprised as he was when my orbs caught a fiery glow and he ceased to move. I could tell he was trying to advance, his expression changed from strain to anger and he dropped curse after curse. This went on for about a minute before I was overcome by a sudden headache and he turned on me in rage and wonderment, his mobility regained.

I had felt so powerful as his movement was entirely in my control, like mine had been in his for as long as I had been on that wretched ship. I had no idea what I had done, but it was amazing and he knew it too. He smiled real big in his strange, twisted way at my obvious discomfort, as I held a hand to my forehead, and he marched from the cell remarking that he wished I'd done that sooner, for now I was worth double the amount I'd originally been. My powers were now not only assumed, they were obvious.

My memory becomes not so friendly from that point on, but I know that hazel-eyed lady is the one who freed me as I escaped the ship and set it alight with a box of matches I'd found in the pocket of the guard outside my prison after I knocked him out. I leapt from the boat, no longer caring if I lived or died, just as long as I did it as a free man.

The ship was close to shore and at midday, I reached the port the hazel-eyed women had talked about weeks ago. I dragged myself out of the water and was eventually met by a pair of official looking people that, after a quick look about me, paying a uncanny amount of attention to the mark burned into my left hand, took me to a van and told me they'd take me someplace safe. They seemed rather pleased to have found me, but I didn't like the look of them, as I quickly had been learning that these people in this imperfect world were not at all able to be trusted, especially not with your life.

In the end they forced me into the van as I was to exhausted to run away, however, I did try. With my luck, I had run into the organization that the Burning Wheel had promised to sell me to. They took me back to their labs and began a string of agonizing tests before the sun had even set. I quickly learned my new captors were strict in a complete different way than my previous owners. These were nice and gave me whatever information I wanted, no matter what I seemed to ask and it was not often would they would become irked.

I spent many of my days high and unresponsive strapped to a table as they ran different tests. I suppose they wanted to know why I was claimed to have supernatural powers when I seemed a normal human being in every way. My memory is foggy of what exactly went on in the labs, but after each visit I can remember coming to my senses with a new feeling of pain to weep over. There was a window in my cell here too, and I learned the greatest thing about the stars: they were the same in every sky. A great day it was when the authorities found out what went on in that place and rescued me from the institute. I still to this day know little of who I supposed the Burning Wheel where to sell me to, but it didn't matter as long as I was free. I was kept with the police for about seven days as they helped me out of my injured and exhausted state.

I was in bandages but with a sound mind when I met with a strange officer in a soundproof room in the police office I'd been kept in for almost a week. He told me I was currently in the state of California in the US, a long way from home. He then began to explain to me about an academy that trained people with abilities such a mine and how he was sure they would be glad to have me at the Death Weapon Meister Academy (DWMA). He handed me a ticket to get there as he left me in my chair. I was still in shock and confusion when I heard the door shut behind me, but I accepted the offer.
I had no idea where I was going, but I knew it was about these powers I possessed just like everything else had been about my powers for the last of the most important weeks of my life. I found the academy, and later, enrolled as a Meister. I have found life at the DWMA much more enjoyable than I ever have found life aboard a ship or within the walls of a medical institute and I'm extremely glad that am now completely free, save for the burned mark on my left hand . . . that is a constant reminder of my unfortunate past.

Weapon Partner

none


Combat Info


Rank  One Star

Weapon Specialty
Light weighted or ranged  weapons are a major preference, but since he can be quite versatile, he has potential to do well in all fields.

Abilities

Name: Deadlock
Level: WEAK (1st Level)
Duration: 2 POSTS
Cool Down: 8 POSTS
Description:

When activated, the user of this ability's eyes will glow and change color to that of their soul's. This ability can only affect one foe at any given time. When eye contact is made between the user and a opponent, the opponent will become effectively immobilized. This move lasts a short period of time and can be broken if the user removes their attention from the foe. However, an opponent affected by this move is still able to perform small movements such as speaking, change in expressions, and any small gestures. The user of this move is not limited in mobility but must keep eye contact with their opponent for this ability to last. This ability can not only be used on living things, but also can stop any moving projectile or object, provided to object size and weight is not outside of this ability's current performance level.

note:  duration of the two posts are only tallied if they are posts by the user of this ability.

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