Name: Derrick Matthews

Gender: Male

Race/Species: Human

Age: 17

Alignment: HAH

Class/Profession: Uhhhhhhhhh, Soldier/Blacksmith

Power Rating: C- (Though that may change in time)


Derrick is a tall person, standing at six foot eight, he stands over most people he knows. He wears glasses, and keeps stray strands of hair tucked under them. He wears his hair long, and in a ponytail. He tends to wear very casual clothing, preferring jeans and a t-shirt to anything else. Derrick despises long sleeves, only wearing them when necessary. Derrick tends to be a quiet person, not letting others into his head, nor trying to get in theirs. His grey eyes have a tendency (Yes this is real, look it up) to shift between different colors, all of which are heavily grey or silver tinted. He stays relaxed on the outside, no matter the situation, mostly because he hates showing whats going on inside his head without reason. He has little growing room left, being seventeen, but he still has a little. Across his back are several scars, all very clean and surgical. One runs from his left shoulder to the middle of his back. One runs from his right shoulder and meets the one from the left in the middle. The third runs from this connecting point down to his waste, and jagged instead of clean. Scattered across the rest of his back appears to be scars from a whip. On the front of his torso, he seems to mainly have more jagged cuts and some burns, none as large or bad as the ones on his back. Despite these scars, the rest of his body remains untouched, at least visibly. On the back of his right hand is a tattoo of two gears with a bloody knife caught in the middle. He commonly wears gloves, and a face obscuring mask. On the base of his neck and usually hidden by his hair, is a second tattoo of several needles piercing down into his spine and injecting something into it.


Usually very relaxed and outgoing, but after years of brutal punishment and only a recent respite in it, he's always paranoid and suspicious of everything and everyone. If you can win his friendship, he's a friend for life, taking considerable levels of backstabbing and abuse to break him open. For those few that become his friend, he becomes extremely protective, to the point that his monster within can emerge when they are threatened.


Varies wildly, but he usually has as many throwing knives as he can hide, and a combat knife or pistol, usually both.

Abilities: Most of Derrick's abilities come from his skill with weaponry, however he has a few notable abilities. First and foremost is his mastery of his own body to the point of making himself able to shatter rocks, among other things, with his bare hands. The strain this puts on his body reduces him to only being able to do this once a day. Similarly, he can do this with weapons he uses, though most of his abilities are stuck at the melee range. Second is the developing ability to see the auras around people, allowing him so see what their intent is. In time he'll be able to use his to create powerful attacks and even read thoughts just through ones aura.

Back story:

Derrick was born to two relatively normal parents in a small coastal town. He was born alongside his fraternal twin sister, Nina. Most of their childhoods were relatively normal, that was, until they were ten. On the night of their shared twelfth someone broke into their home. No one discovered it until the next morning, his sister, murdered and chopped into pieces. Both of Derrick’s parents had been drugged, and he had been out at a friends house that night. He came home to the scene of body parts scattered throughout the room. Strangely her head was missing. It would be almost a year before he began to recover from the sight. On his eleventh birthday was the day the life he knew would end. Since his sisters death he had become apathetic, and vicious. Someone had taken notice, a strange hooded figure could be seen watching him and how he at one point he wouldn't even help a kid who had broken their arm. He was taken, in the night. When he first woke up, he was in a bright, plain room with only the basics. A bed and a toilet, in the room.

He would receive food through a slot in the door, but not much more. This went on for several weeks, and that's when he was finally allowed to leave the room. He was shunted into a kind of group dorm, kids of all ages, and mindsets were there with him. The only thing they all held in common, in someway or another they were all broken. Some of them were the kind of sick, twisted people you see that like to kill animals as slowly as possible. Others just didn’t care, and wouldn’t do anything to help or hinder another kid in the dorm. Derrick fell in with them, though he was scared out of his mind. The adults were masked and gloved anytime they were around the kids. This meant none of the kids could tell those with “good” or “bad” intentions just from looking at them. They would push them to their limits. Beating them because they failed some test, whipping them for one thing or another. Over the course of two years him and the other older kids still inside harder than any of the rest. It was after a year and a half, he finally broke. His mind was no longer his, but whatever he was, it wasn’t what they wanted. He had retreated into his own bubble of reality. He thought he was back at home, back with his sister, like none of it had ever happened.

They had to bring him out of this state if he was ever going to be of use to him. They started giving him medicine. In that time they introduced a young girl, Ocarina, only a little younger than him, into his life to try and give him a friend to help draw him back out. He was fourteen by the time they managed to draw him out, but his mind was still fragile. In an attempt to draw out what they wanted, they shot the girl in front of him. It almost worked, he was definitely different than he was before. More violent, but not quite where they wanted him. They pushed him, and pushed him. They pushed him so far that at one point he was in need of life saving surgery. Once he came out, they had achieved what they had wanted, they had even ingrained a trigger for this side of him into his psyche. A weapon, any weapon, with the symbol of the organization would draw out the killer within. He was theirs now, he was in the palm of their hand. They had him kill, steal, kidnap, and even break new “recruits” they were bringing in. When he wasn't working for them, he was back inside a plain room, separated from most of the others outside of one day a week. At one point they had been training him harder than ever, telling him the final test was coming up. Despite all of this, when he turned sixteen, they informed him that the test had been changed, and that he would embark for this new one in only one hour.

(WIP, but enough is done for me to use him here)

Malfunction in the TERV (Time machine) sent him cross-dimensions instead of across time, and restored his once missing memories.