Damien Freeman

Full Name:Damien Freeman
Nickname(s): Lil' D
Codename: Hell Hound
Alias(es): Cerberus
Age: 16
Classification: Human
Affiliation: None
Birthday: 2/2/96


Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Brown (with flecks of gold)
Height: 5'8
Weight: 148 lbs.
Other Traits: none

===POWERS===

Powers: Spiritual Awareness: His 6th sense, Damien is gifted with a high spiritual awareness, allowing him to see and interact with ghosts.

Superhuman Agility and Stamina: Prolonged exposure to his demonic firearms have granted Damien a permanent demonic aura about him. The aura is not strong compared to even low level demons, but it does give him a degree of superhuman stamina and agility exceeding Olympic level.

Weapon recall: Having a psychic bond with his guns, Daminen is able to recall his weapons back to him simply by reaching out his hand. The guns will then make there way back to him. However if they have been trapped or being held by someone or something stronger than he is, they will not be able to return.


Skills: Damien is a proficient hunter of the supernatural, has an above average knowledge of them, and is a decent street fighter.


Weaknesses: Damien is a normal human and as such, all standard human weaknesses apply. He is also at a disadvantage if he is separated from his guns.


Equipment: Damien is the owner of two pistols infused with the essence of hellhounds. Their names are White Mike and Black Mike respectively. They are nigh indestructible, save for powerful holy relics, and persons of truely superior strength. They take the form of normal firearms unless in the presence of the supernatural (demons, spirits, etc)

Both pistols are able to fire .40mm rounds typical of any beretta, but they are able to channel their own demonic energy and release it in a "bullet" ranging in size from a standard bulletin to the size of a cannonball. These "bullets" have the same lethality as a Tameranian starbolt.

The pistols resemble a pair of black an white berettas unless in the presence of some supernatural force, which teeth and jaws form from the barrel. These jaws have the same biting strength of an adult pit bull.

===PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE===

Personality:

Damien is very lazy and unenthusiastic about most things, especially things that are not of immediate concern to him. He is a chronic procrastinator. The only things that motivate him are food and hunting things that go bump in the night.

He can be serious on occasion, although his personality does not change much; he comes off as reluctant, but nonetheless willing to complete the task at hand.

Although he's lazy and indifferent to most things, he's always observant of his surroundings and a very analytical thinker.

When fighting he normally goes on a full offensive mostly to end things as quick as possible.




Strengths: knowledge of the supernatural, fighting supernatural beings, observation skills.


Interests/Habits: Damien has a collection of 'trophies' that he has collected over the years of fallen demons. He keeps them in shoeboxes in his closet. He is also an avid reader
Rarely, he can be caught yelling at a ghost bothering him.

===PERSONAL BACKGROUND===

Family Members: Mother, Father, older sister.
Place of Origin: Gotham City
Current City: Jump City
History:
Damien was born an raised in Gotham. Both his parents were in the witness protection program after leaving the criminal organizations they were affiliated with a year before their son was born.

His sister was a prodigal child and excelled in everything she did, leaving her younger sibling in her shadow. He eventually learned to live with the status quo an deal, not seeing much reason to really excell in anything if he would just be compared to his sister.

Damien had always been able to see spirits ever since he was a toddler, although his parents passed it off as imaginary friends. When he was 15 he came to a point where he wanted to rid himself of his gift, and scoured the Gotham library when the Internet didn't help.

His search brought him to the back area of the library, to a book with no title but a strange symbol. He recited an incantation that he thought would sever his ties to the spirit world, but it in actuality was a summoning spell.

He inadvertently summoned two hellhounds, but due Tojo poor execution of the spell, and the various words he shouted to try and cancel it, they need up possessing a pair of berettas that the librarian kept under the counter. The newly possessed pistols flew toward him, and freaked out of his mind, he grabbed the guns and book and ran.

Day later, he noticed that he was seeing more and more spirits, as well as spirits and other supernatural forces. He took it upon himself to try and rid Gotham of these forces, but he quickly interfered with the police. His parents sent him to live with his sister in Jump to keep him out of trouble.

So now he resides in Jump, taking down the forces of evil while trying to stay out of the public eye.


Sample RP

How cliche of him to be wandering a cemetery at the dead of night. His only companions were his demon pistols, the crickets, and the occasional ghost hovering over his grave still not truely grasping that he was no longer a part of the living.

Planting his bottom on a tombstone of a loving husband and devoted father, he hunched his back, and took a quick survey of the area while simultaneously stifling a deep yawn. A vampire site that he trolled dedicated to 'real' vampires had a user that touted himself as a necromancer. Mr. Necro said to his peers he hangs around this body dump to practice his craft.

Damien wa almost sure that the guybwasba crock, but he still decided to investigate it just to make sure. The fact that Black Mike and White Mike were giving off low growls in their holsters was giving D a feeling he was right. And he hated when he was right, it meant more work for him and he had class in 5 hours.

But there he was. In a typical garb for a practitioner of the dark arts; Midnight black robe and his face covered with a hood and matching boots. " An that's my sicko. Ugh... Better get this done." He grumbled to himself. Every now and again he had I scare off would be witches ad warlocks from pretending to be spell slingers before they did something stupid.

Briskly making his way to the man, his right hand already gripping Black mike, he pointed his Hellhound Firearm upward to the guy's face. The pistol was barking at the man as if he were a cat, and Damian had to almost yell to be heard. " Look man, I got places to be like my bed. I know you're probably bullied or an outcast or whatever it is that made you want to try and be a sicko, bu pack it up before I let my doggie play fetch."

It was a bluff of course, but it always worked. Some even wet their pants. But this one had nerves of steel. He even chuckled. He unveiled himself, revealing a rather handsome red-headed man with freckles splashed about his face. He looked to be in his mid twenties and a decent two heads taller than Damien. He took a hard gulp, but still stared the man down.

" Oh child. I have heard things about you. Not a lot. But heard of you I have. I'm not going to bore you with my background, I'm just going to kill you now and add you to my undead legion. " he ended his rather curt speech with a wave of hands and twist of fingers, amassing green energy in his palms. He then planted his energy infused palms firmly onto the loamy soil.

Damien already knew where this was going. He took a long skip backwards with his White Mike at the ready. Tryin to interupt the spell now would be stupid.. Because the zombies that sprouted from the ground would just protect their new master.

"Damn I hate when I'm right." He forsaw a long night ahead if him, as he squeezed the trigger.

Bump, it's no longer a W.I.P. just to notify whoever wishes to claim this app.