Name: Birth Name- Gavin. In the Lab, he became known as Hawke
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Mutation/Abilities: Due to several failed animal experiments, Hawke has the ability to talk with and exert his will over animals (much in the same way an Alpha member of a pack might).
Mutation Appearance: The experiment that took most was the first, an attempt to make him part hawk. If one were to look closely enough, the top layers of his hair are actually composed of feathers instead of strands of hair, a dark auburn/russet in color like a red-tailed hawk's feathers. He has "tattoos" all over his body: his left arm and down that side are all feline patterns, he has scaly patterns at the corners of his eyes, various canine/vulpine patterns going down his right arm and side, more scales and feathers going down his legs.
Description: His auburn hair reaches down to his waist; the feathers that are the top layers only reach his shoulders. The hair he keeps pulled in a tail at the nape of his neck, the uneven self done layers looking more like some mythical bird's tail than human hair. His emerald irises are usually half hidden by his feathered bangs. Despite the first mutation being bird, he's built more like a cat; tall and seemingly lanky, with sleek, deceiving muscles meant mostly for quick attacks to conserve energy.
Personality: Hawke is short tempered, and easily provoked into violence, a frightening combination that has kept him in and out of the Games for ten of his fifteen years in the Lab. He's extremely protective of anyone he considers friend or ally, making him more likely to help someone than harm them (if he likes them). Despite the short temper, once his trust is gained he's quite friendly, which earned him a handful of friends among those in the lab (mostly mutants whom his voice could reach from his room). He doesn't joke often, but so long as he isn't pissed off he does his best to remain cheerful. With his eyes closed, it's easier for him to remain calm and collected; in times of danger or excitement he uses this to override his birdlike instinct to flee (which tends to happen with his eyes open).
Strengths: Hawke is fast for his size, often using the slower builds of his opponents against them. He spends most of his time listening to conversations with his heightened sense of hearing, and uses what he hears to plan ahead.
Weaknesses: Although his hearing is great, his sight and sense of smell are weak in comparison. His temper often gets him into trouble, and his bones are a little less dense than most because of the bit of bird DNA in him. Occasionally the flight instinct is stronger than fight, causing him to get agitated and fidgety when he can't escape. Though he can control animals, he has no power over animal-mutants
Fears: Animal mutants, stemming from his inability to exert his will over them. He is terrified that one day he'll be incapable of keeping himself alive against one of the more ferocious ones. He also isn't fond of cages or crowded areas, but this is something he can more easily control by keeping his eyes shut.
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Mutation/Abilities: Due to several failed animal experiments, Hawke has the ability to talk with and exert his will over animals (much in the same way an Alpha member of a pack might).
Mutation Appearance: The experiment that took most was the first, an attempt to make him part hawk. If one were to look closely enough, the top layers of his hair are actually composed of feathers instead of strands of hair, a dark auburn/russet in color like a red-tailed hawk's feathers. He has "tattoos" all over his body: his left arm and down that side are all feline patterns, he has scaly patterns at the corners of his eyes, various canine/vulpine patterns going down his right arm and side, more scales and feathers going down his legs.
Description: His auburn hair reaches down to his waist; the feathers that are the top layers only reach his shoulders. The hair he keeps pulled in a tail at the nape of his neck, the uneven self done layers looking more like some mythical bird's tail than human hair. His emerald irises are usually half hidden by his feathered bangs. Despite the first mutation being bird, he's built more like a cat; tall and seemingly lanky, with sleek, deceiving muscles meant mostly for quick attacks to conserve energy.
Personality: Hawke is short tempered, and easily provoked into violence, a frightening combination that has kept him in and out of the Games for ten of his fifteen years in the Lab. He's extremely protective of anyone he considers friend or ally, making him more likely to help someone than harm them (if he likes them). Despite the short temper, once his trust is gained he's quite friendly, which earned him a handful of friends among those in the lab (mostly mutants whom his voice could reach from his room). He doesn't joke often, but so long as he isn't pissed off he does his best to remain cheerful. With his eyes closed, it's easier for him to remain calm and collected; in times of danger or excitement he uses this to override his birdlike instinct to flee (which tends to happen with his eyes open).
Strengths: Hawke is fast for his size, often using the slower builds of his opponents against them. He spends most of his time listening to conversations with his heightened sense of hearing, and uses what he hears to plan ahead.
Weaknesses: Although his hearing is great, his sight and sense of smell are weak in comparison. His temper often gets him into trouble, and his bones are a little less dense than most because of the bit of bird DNA in him. Occasionally the flight instinct is stronger than fight, causing him to get agitated and fidgety when he can't escape. Though he can control animals, he has no power over animal-mutants
Fears: Animal mutants, stemming from his inability to exert his will over them. He is terrified that one day he'll be incapable of keeping himself alive against one of the more ferocious ones. He also isn't fond of cages or crowded areas, but this is something he can more easily control by keeping his eyes shut.
Fifteen Years Ago
Gavin dove between the slats of a rotting fence, wincing as his side got caught on a rusted nail. He had to get away from those two men. He didn't know why he felt that way, he just didn't like the way they'd come toward him. Outweighing him by at least a hundred and fifty pounds, the scrawny preteen street rat had no other choice but to run. With a huff he turned sharply into "his" alley, his ankle screaming in protest at the sudden change of direction. His lungs and throat burned, his focus on anything but keeping his breathing even. All he had to do was get inside and flip the switch. Then his booby traps would be in place and he'd be safe--
A foot hooked around his already twisted ankle as he passed a doorway; Gavin was sent flying face first into the gravel, skidding and tumbling painfully. He coiled around himself to protect his head as he continued toward the concrete half step, his shoulders and spine smashing into it so hard he couldn't breathe. Unable to move or get a deep enough breath to cry out, he was hefted over one of the men's shoulder like a sack of flour. Last thing he saw was the other's thick fist coming straight at his face...
When he awoke, he still couldn't move. A light shone directly overhead into his eyes, harsh restraints kept his arms and legs strapped tightly to a steel surface. Faces obscured by the light surrounded him, chattering incomprehensibly through his clouded mind and punch drunk ears. Pain shot through his arms and legs as though someone had pumped liquid fire into his veins. He cried out, thrashed, desperate to get away from whatever they were doing to him, kept fighting until pain shut his senses down once more.
When he came to this time, he was in a small room. He lay on a bed much like those at the orphanage he'd lived in: steel framed, cold, with a thin mattress and little in the way of bedding. He didn't really care about the rest of the room, except for one terrifying problem: there were no windows. No way to tell where he was. He was trapped, starving, and everything hurt from head to toe. Unable to think or do anything else, Gavin coiled into the tiniest ball he could in the corner of the bed, head on his knees, and wept.
In Additions
-I'd place a facility actually in the city, a bad part of town where no one really seems to care about anyone else. Underground, of course, but definitely in the worst part of town possible so I had the largest selection of those who wouldn't be missed.
-shape shifting mutations are my favorites
