One, Subject One if you wish to be specific.
Age:
42.
Gender:
Male.
Sexual Orientation:
Straight.
Race:
Formerly human. Decomposing corpse.
Height:
6ft and shrinking.
Weight:
130lbs. {See below for details.}
Distinctive Markings / Features:
Almost everything is distinctive about this male, his rotting flesh, the stench, the piercing, the scars, the vivid sky blue hue, the missing eye, the hairstyle.
Appearance:
One's appearance is that of an entire wreck, one would swear he'd died once or contracted a flesh devouring virus. He weighs very little and is quite tall, though his height is on a constant decrease, due to the loss of flesh and the wearing of everything else in his figure, bone marrow, e.t.c. He has one eye and it's a vivid sky blue in color, the other eye is nothing but a stitched together socket with a scar trailing up the side, the stitches are worn and pulling loose due to his decomposition. His mouth and most of the area which was formerly his jaw are worn to pieces, chunks of flesh fall every now and again, though there isn't more than a mere coating of thin flesh and blood remaining as covering over the bone structure, his gums remain, but are a dark, horrible color. His skin, what's left of it, is a sickly pale, though he doesn't have any dark patches around his eyes, he actually looks quite a piece younger than truth, despite the rotting. He has his left ear pierced, formerly in numerous places, but the flesh rotted away and the metal fell loose. The only piercing which remains is a large hoop, clinging to the remainder of the lobe for dear life. He bears a mohawk, which is terribly long and tends to flop over to the left side of his scalp, it's pitch black, raven in color. It's thought that this is the only folicles which aren't really rotting away on the poor man, such is the reason why he keeps it so long. He has his eyebrows still, well, one of his eyebrows. The right to be precise.
His attire is a simple jacket, loose fitting trousers and knee high boots, adorned with silver bolts which are actually a key factor to holding together his legs. He wears a raggedy old scarf which was formerly white, but, over time, it proceeded to soak up One's leaking bodily fluids, turning it into a horrid, stained biliary color. He also wears a belt, its key use is to hold his intestines within himself.
He is, all in all, a rotting, decomposing corpse of the former man he was.
Reference{s}:
Personality:
One is rather subdued. He doesn't tend to like to cause trouble and, aside from being a tad bit on the quiet side, he is what you would consider 'normal'. He can be serious and doesn't like to open up about his former life too much. With his brethren, well, the contorted 'found and adopted' brethren he calls his own, he's like the big brother, who's been there and done that too many times over. Always has a word of caution about every situation, but always gives encouragement where he feels it is necessary. He shows no embarrassment, despite the loss of flesh and dripping wounds he bares, he maintains his dignity like an old war general should. He's sort of like the quiet hero, the strong, silent type.
Background Information:
Subject One was born deep within an underground laboratory within an underground society known as Bunker 4500HIJ. A test tube baby, his mother and father before him were born the same way, their mother and father were born the same way and so on, so forth. Little One was raised by the doctor and his assistants as one of thousands of 'war machines'. These were simple humans, yes, but they were trained in the art of combat tactics, killing, accessing the situation, plotting maps and military style lives from birth, practically. A rare break was always a happy thing in the underground of Bunker 4500HIJ, though, when all you know is your classmates, you're not exactly going to be someone who's very happy about everything. When all you know is war, it messes with you a little bit.
As Subject One grew and matured, he was sent off to fight with the surface dwellers and their own army, quickly rising through the ranks to become a respected general. But tragedy struck when an atomic bomb was released, by his own order, obliterating everything and everyone he'd ever known. He, too, lost his life, or so it was thought.
Rising from the ashes in the post apocolyptic surroundings, the young One was only half the man he formerly was. The better part of his skin on his left side had fallen loose and was beginning to flake in other places, whether this was due to radiation or otherwise, One will never know. Much like the land, the man gradually wasted more and more, wandering the earth in search of survivors. What he happened upon, however, was completely out of the ordinary, or his ordinary, at the very least; Demons, experiments and insiders.
Common Quotes:
"At least this rotting means something: I'm human."
"You may be demons, but I am a man, I am rare."
"I'd rather be in a family of demons than a family of homosapiens."
"Sacrifice, it meant everything... Until I survived it."
