Damien Mical

[AvidElmV2]

Damien Mical
​

​

 
​

Name :
​

Damien Mical
​

 
​

Nickname(s) :
​

Junkie, Thriller, Rush
​

 
​

Alias(s) :
​

N/A
​

 
​

Age: 
​

19
​

 
​

Gender: 
​

Male
​

 
​

Affiliation :
​

Deadwalkers
​

 
​

Role/occupation :
​

Foot-Soldier/Stiff
​

 
​

Height :
​

6'7
​

 
​

Weight :
​

237lbs
​

 
​

Eye color :
​

Steel grey
​

 
​

Hair color :
​

Blonde, with orangish-red highlights near the tips 
​

 
​

History :
​

Damien wasn't born in Chicago. In fact, he wasn't even born in North America. Damien was born in Turkey, the country stradled between Europe and Asia, in the city of Ankara, Turkey's capital. Or at least thats where his father, a
​

foreigner to the lands, decided to reside during his trip to the country. Damien and his mother, as well as the rest of his family, lived their lives out in a village not to long away from the city. The boys existance is actually credited to a one night stand, although it couldn't be called that as the boy's father came to visit many more times after. The only reason his father happened upon the village was the cause of a defiant act brought on by boredom. The man had hired a guide to show him some of the lesser known aspects of Turkey, but he found nothing remarkable to capitalize his vacation on. So he, along with the group of men that had followed him during his journey from America to Turkey and acted as his escort, struck out from their tour guides path to explore on their own. Their efforts, at first, proved to be somewhat futile. The inital goal had been to find something far more exciting than what they'd seen on the trail, but after awhile, it seemed like they would find nothing in any direction that would make this worthwhile. So, they headed back towards the trail, before eventually realizing they were going in a circle. They'd gotten lost in the  with no way to call for help. They continued to march through flat plains, mountainous regions, and forest of evergreeb before finally stumbling on a large, quaint village a few days later that had been hidden under of blanket of vegetation so thick, they would have missed it had they not gotten close enough to hear the chatter of its inhabitants. Here, they were taken in by the village members and allowed to eat with them and rest for the night after telling of their predicament. It was a simple act of kindness that didn't need to be payed forward. The next day, they would be given directions to the capital and some food for the trip back. It was also here that his father found a beautiful young woman and spent a long and bliss filled night with her...
​

 
​

The result, nine month later, was a boy that would prove to be increasingly more troublesome as the years went by. Taking a break from the tale of how the boy ended up in his current state and situation to tell of his childhood, one would find it wasn't much different in terms of how he was raised than most. The boy was loved by most, if not all, of his family and treated fairly by the same amount. Of course, there were those that may have been a bit tougher or harsher on him, but it was only because they, too, loved him. He spent most of his free time running around with friends or by himself, climbing and exploring. It didn't matter what it was, he'd climb it until he reached the top, no matter have many times he fell and hurt himself. Eventually, he'd scaled every object in his village spiralling up to the heavens and knew the settlement like the back of his hand. This set the back drop for a love for free running and a heavy fixation for thrill seeking. As he grew older, his horizons expanded as he learned more and more about the world outside of the village. It wasn't uncommon for one to see him climing up a large boulder of a mountain side. Still, he knew his limits and how attempting to press them too much could get himself killed. Still, he continued to push hinself and one bad fall was all it took for him to abstain from his passion, just for a bit. The wall resulted not only in him breaking his arm and losing his usage of it for the next few months, but also the loss of his right eye. He learned to live with the loss, however, and soon he was moving around as if he still had both eyes and, most importantly, not bumping into walls and things on his right every five seconds. Besides his addiction to parkour, the boy also enjoyed to fight. It wasn't something he would actively look for, but he would never back down from one either. He saw it as a challenge and a chance to secure permanent bragging rights over said person. It felt great to bring up having beaten someone into the dirt after losing in a game of leap frog to them.
​

 
​

Taking some time off from this to speak more of how the boy came to America, the spotlight shines back onto the boys father. After arriving back in Ankara, the man found himself in his hotel room thinking of the woman he'd spent the night with. During his vacation, he'd met and slept with many women and never given them a second thought afterwards. Why think of this woman? Was she not the same or were his feelings for her actually... genuine? He stayed in Turkey for nine more months, much longer than he'd planned to, visiting the womans village weekly. It was the day after his sons birth, having been there during the hours his lover spent in labour to support her, that he disappeared for the next decade, although not without a trace. He sent letters via courier every now and then to let the woman know he'd never forgotten her. They exchanged months every month or so, sometimes even gifts, until one day, around Damien's twelfth birthday, a much larger escort came. They came bearing a message and gift they couldn't have even begun to fathom: 'Dear Aylin,' it read, 'I cannot bear to be apart any longer. I have bought a home for you, under my name of course, in the city of Chicago. It is my home and I wish for it to be yours, to. I am, at the moment, unable to join you due to work reasons, but I promise you I will enjoy every second you are in my presence when I return to America. Give our son my regards. Sincerely, your husband-to-be.' Moved to tears by the compassionate letter, if not blinded by love, the woman hastily packed their things, said goodbye and headed off to a land they did not understand in a city they would likely met their end in.
​

 
​

Now in Chicago, Damien found he quickly had to adjust and did so surprisingly easily. The boys 'uncle', who'd turned out to just be a very close acquaintance of his fathers, often came to check up on the family of two in their small apartment in the slums, more than often just to give them letters written to them. The neighborhood wasn't the best, many in it still victims of the drug and prostitution ring, was much better than most as it was unaffiliated with any of the gangs, still neutral territory. Despite this, the longer the boy seemed to stay in it, the longer his attitude and behavior stayed in free fall. He was actively looking for trouble now and refusing to heed and rules set in place. Even his waredrobe had begun to change! Seeing the radical differences, the boys mother desperatly attempted to change him around by sending him off to live with his uncle, although she was inadvertantly promoting the behavior instead of crushing it. The mans neighborhood was much worse than theirs, being apart of Deadwalker territory and therefore a mainstay for violent gang activity. Damien found himself drawn to this and often hung around known members of the Deadwalkers with the intention to join them, although he had no real reason to and they saw this only as phase. So, instead, they kept him around as an entertaining pet. The uncle, having seen this one day, sat the boy down and told him it's be best to stay away from the group for his own well being. As a gift, and as a precaution, he gave the boy two ornamented handguns from his own collection, although the boy never had the chance to use them. So, instead, he practiced with them at a local firing range to hone his skills, becoming a self proclaimed master despite his ocular injury.
​

 
​

The longer the boy stayed,in his uncles home, the more he began to learn about the man. Where he kept his valuables in particular. After snooping around for a bit while the man was out at work, Damien stumbled -quite litterally- onto a cache of designed firearms in a hollowed out spacing under the mans floorboards, at the foot of his bed. He was quick to tell the Deadwalkers of his discovery, hoping to use the information to buy his way into the gang. Most blew him off, however, believing he had just gotten desperate and was spreading lies. Eventually, he found a group that decided to take him up on his information and the group formed a counseled to come up with a plan. In the dead of night, the Walkers and their initiate snuck quietly into the mans home using his own key and went straight to his bedroom, finding him asleep in his bed, or atleast a bulky silhouette that appeared to be him. Prying up the floor boards, the group found the weapons exactly where Damien had told them they would. It was no military sized cache, but any amount would help, right? The Walkers began to hustle the weapons out while Damien stood watch to make sure no one caught them in the middle of the heist. It appeared everything was going smoothly and the cache was almost empty when a shot rang out in the apartment. Whipping around from his post outside, Damien peered inside the apartment entrance to see his uncle standing over one of the Walkers with a pistol, who was on the floor clutching their shoulder, as he prepared to shot once more and finish the stiff off. Damien found himself pulling out his own pistol, firing off a shot towards his uncles chest, before he could even think of a second option. The round planted itself firmly in the man's torso and kept going, blasting straight through and hitting the lamp before him, shattering the glass everywhere. The man stumbled back before raising his weapon in Damien's direction to shoot back. A sharp report could be heard as the man's head jerked violently to the side and a spray of redbappeared on the wall beside him. One of the stiffs, having snapped out of seeing their friend get shot, had drawn their weapon and fired at their attacker. After a moment of shocked silence, the group scooped up the last of their weapons as Damien assisted the wounded stiff to his feet and left. Later on, it would have been revealed that Damien's 'uncle' was an associate of the Western Dragon's who'd managed to worm their way into Walker territory. The group, however, had no way to know this and simply assumed he was trying to stop them from presumbly robbing him. After getting a good distance away from the scene to avoid any unwanted heat, the group checked their weapons and verified they hadn't left any behind. After thanking Damien for aiding the Deadwalkers in their cause, the stiffs invited the boy to follow them while they reported into their superiors ad promised to be in a good word for him. He agreed to and, afterwards, stayed over at one of the stiffs hise for the night, having no other place to go. The next day, the man's death was reported and Damien's mother rushed to pick him up from the stiffs house. These events went down less than two months ago, and, so far, the investigation hasn't pointed Damien's way. He was also invited to join the Deadwalkers as a stiff street soldier in order to prove himself.
​

 
​

A gracious offer he gladly accepted.
​

 
​

 
​

Skills : (Be realistic)
​

-Despite having lost his right eye, Damien is still a crackshot due to some extended time at the shooting range
​

-Acrobatic and limber, despite his size
​

-Is a seasoned street scrapper, but never had any formal training
​

-Has a much more studier frame than most, as well as immense stamina reserves due to his athletic nature
​

 
​

Equipment Be realistic)
​

Two pistols he wields akimbo, handmade gifts from his uncle that weren't meant to be used the way they are
​

 
​

A pair of crude, makeshift knuckledusters
​

 
​

Other :
​

Although it is not an addiction -yet- Damien is not against using injected epinephrine (injected adrenaline) to get his next 'fix' if necessary, although he believes naturally induced epinephrine to be a much more stimulating 'high'.
​

 
​

Has the Deadwalker's symbol covering the majority of the right side of his chest, as well as multiple skull and bones tattoo's covering his right arm.
​