Post by Tony Masters on Dec 9, 2006 8:49:29 GMT
Name: Tony Masters
Codename: Taskmaster
Age: 26
Mutation:
Tony was born with the innate ability to duplicate any movement or action he witnessed. After watching another person preform an act, he is able to preform exactly that same motion without practice. His only limitations come from his body itself. His mutation does not include any physical alterations, so if he were to bare witness to, say, Colossus performing the Fast-ball special, he would be able to mimic the movements without flaw, but he would not possess the strength required to actually preform the action. The same applies for any other mutation associated ability, so telekinesis and other such powers are not mimicable.
He also has they ability to imitate any sound created by human vocal chords, though this cannot be done immediately like physical motions. Instead, he must practice several times before he can imitate it properly.
His mutation is purely dependent on sight (or sound, if he's trying to duplicate a voice) so heading into a fight with a new opponent serves to be incredibly hazardous to his health, but he is able to draw on past experiences to hold his own until he learns his enemy's strategies and is able to successfully predict the upcoming movements. He does not have to be in the immediate vicinity in order to memorize another's movements, a video will easily suffice.
Due to his enhanced memory, he retains all of his experiences, making him an expert in every form of combat he's witnessed, most of it being hand-to-hand and weapons training, with a small amount of knowledge of firearms, though his experience increases with everything he sees.
His mutation does not limit him to simply combat and voice imitation, but he is also able to, among other things, cook; assemble or disassemble bombs; and even play an instrument, all assuming he's witnessed it. This only includes the motions, so even if he watched someone preform a concert-grade piano solo, he would not be able to understand the sheet music, but he would be able to play the same music without fault.
Physical Description:
Tony prefers to keep his personal identity a secret, revealing it only to those he trusts immensely.
He stands around six foot two and possess a muscular frame while staying withing reasonable proportions.
His chosen attire always includes at least a tight-fitting, black spandex suit which covers his entire head, torso, and legs. Atop his head, Tony usually wears a steel mask that shields his face. The mask is in the form of a modernized skull with a detachable faceplate so that he may eat or drink through a hole in the suit underneath.
When in more dire situations, Tony adds a navy blue, hooded combat suit that is designed to carry his three chosen weapons; two semi-automatic pistols and a katana for hand-to-hand combat. He always wears the hood when he expects danger, so that it complements his skull mask and completes a Death-like image.
When not in costume, though this happens very rarely, Tony is seen in normal, professional clothing (because he is, after all, a man of integrity). He has short, wavy brown hair and brown eyes with a soft, handsome face. The perfect appearance to dissuade anyone from believing that he's really a wanted criminal.
Sometimes, if he still desires to be in casual attire without revealing his identity, he will keep the spandex and skull mask, while wearing his civilian clothing over top. But he never does this in public (it's either full costume, or his mild-mannered alter ego), only around those he knows, but doesn't quite trust.
Personality:
Tony is a well-rounded criminal with a cynical, dry sense of humour. Despite being a wanted felon, he is usually able to maintain a light, confident attitude in nearly any situation. He often makes a mockery of his partners and opponents and always criticizes them on their battle techniques, usually while actually fighting.
To those that are on agreeable terms with Tony, he his calm, quick witted and reasonable. To those on bad terms with him, he is ruthless and always swoops in for the kill...unless of course, it is definitely worth his while not to rid himself of them. And for those that he actually chooses to like, he's charming, polite and kind and readily offers to help, though these people are few and far between.
He is a known killer and at least somewhere on the FBI's wanted list, but regardless of his reputation, he is still a man of understandable decency, and will not engage a fight without proper reason. He will not do a job if he finds it morally unjust, and he will offer to protect those that are wrongfully targeted. He does, however, believe in revenge, and will take anyone out who he believes deserves to be taken out, unless persuaded (either in the literal sense of the word, or through more lucrative methods) otherwise.
He originally chose a life of freelance work as he found it to be far more rewarding and worth his specific talents, though since then, he has grown increasingly aware of his slipping virtues and tries to seek out more noble causes. It was those attempts at a noble lifestyle that eventually lead him to join the Brotherhood.
Background:
Unlike most mutants, Tony realized his powers around the age of eight, while most others remained oblivious until their teenage years. It was at the local swimming pool that he used his photographic reflexes and mimicked a professional diver. Of course, after duplicating the dive perfectly, he realized that he hadn't yet learned to swim, and nearly drowned as a result.
Since the event at the swimming pool, Tony and his parents noticed that we was able to pick up more and more abilities without having to actually practice them. He sat and watched his mother bake a cake, then baked the exact recipe an hour later, resulting in a perfectly matching cake. He watched a karate competition on television and was able to preform at black-belt's lever a moment later (though only those moves he had witnessed). The discovery came as a surprise to his parents, so they took Tony in to be analyzed by psychiatrists, who were the ones to officially announce his photographic reflexes.
His parents, thrilled by the idea of a possible genius son, pushed him through public school, at which Tony excelled. But for the most part, he used his abilities for personal gain. Sports were by far the easiest. Before trying out for his school's hockey team, he watched one professional game on television, analyzing Wayne Gretzky's tactics in the sport. He became both an academic and athletic success and rode the wave of fame throughout public school. But instead of continuing on to university, Tony opted to try and use his power out in the real world.
He found that fighting crime was a suitable use of his talents, but was not nearly as rewarding the actually life of crime. So in a moment of experimentation, he accepted a job eliminating a member of the Russian mafia. He didn't much care for the idea of killing, but he understood the risk the man posed if left alone. Tony staked out and observed the mafia man and his bodyguards for a few hours before deciding to engage his assigned enemy. He took a few punches and a bullet to the arm, but after a minute or two into the fight he had a suitable amount of information on the men. He was quickly able to subdue the bodyguards and successfully killed his mafia man.
He received his reward for the task and, thrilled with the idea of hired vigilante work, Tony shed his true identity and adopted the name Taskmaster, becoming one of the most sought after mercenaries in the business. But due to the hazardous nature of his work, Tony was also forced to rid himself of his past, segregating his family from his job in order to protect them. As a result, he staged his own death, seemingly killed in a car crash.
After several years in the mercenary business, Tony's conscience began to catch up with him. Sure, he was killing wanted criminals and crime lords, but it began to wear on him and his idea of virtuous behaviour started to slip. He had become a regular target by the law, and while he was able to escape whenever necessary, he realized that his chosen profession was not as honourable as he had once believe it to be.
After hearing about the events revolving around the 'Mutant Cure' and the risk it posed to his personal self, Tony set out to see what could be done about his future, and the future of other mutants. It was through some underground companions that he heard about the Brotherhood.
Intrigued by Magneto's goal of mutant superiority, Tony decided to join to see exactly what the Brotherhood could do for his suffering conscience. While he realized that he was not exactly choosing the best of two worlds (the second being to simply break down and return to crime-fighting), he reasoned that it was at least a step in the right direction, and that perhaps eventually, he would finally return to the world of the good.
Current Affiliation:
Brotherhood
Sample:
Taskmaster sits perched atop the three-story apartment building, night-vision goggles held to his skull-covered face.
"Come on...where are you?" He hisses, checking the time in hopes he hasn't missed the target.
Vladimir Chovchekovck. The biggest Russian mafia boss in Manhattan. Not an easy guy to find, and Taskmaster had no doubt that he'd be equally hard to kill.
"A guy with a name like Chovchekovck? This is definitely going to be a rough night." Luckily, before he had left his seedy little apartment, Taskmaster had watched the previous night's episode of ER, so he had confidence in his newly acquired doctoring skills. Provided, of course, the show practiced near-to-the-truth medicine. But, ER had never failed him before.
"Come on!" He growls, growing impatient. "One drink. You only ever have one drink!" If he misses this hit, that's three hundred grand in the toilet, something he can't afford at this point.
Just as he's about to go down into that bar and just shoot him point blank--screw the witnesses...and other possible mafia men--Chovchekovck finally makes his appearance.
He stands just outside the door; lit cigar in one hand, the nightly, tightly clothed blonde on the other.
"Oh, you do love your blondes, don't you?" Taskmaster mutters, pulling his desert eagle from his hip holster. As he watches, two massive bodyguards emerge from behind the Russian. They scan the area with sharp eyes while their boss simple grins and gropes his young entertainment.
And then one of the guards pulls a radio from his pocket and speaks into it. Taskmaster didn't need to be there to hear what he said. He'd watched a video on lip reading once, so that covered that.
"Bring it around," he watches the man mouth. Perfect timing really.
He had learned very quickly that Chovchekovck's limo almost never stayed stationary. No, that would have been to easy. One well placed bomb and he wouldn't be here now, waiting to drop down and nail the sucker.
Taskmaster hears the approaching car and moves over to the side of the building. Always knew playing Prince of Persia would come in handy. Then with a fwip, fwip, fwip, bounding between his building and the other seven feet away, he lands silently on his feet.
His dark costume keeps him hidden in the shadows as he prepares to take the shot. His aim is impeccable, courtesy of Dirty Harry.
"So am I feeling lucky? Oh yes. Very." He whispers, stepping closer and closer to the edge of the darkness.
"So let me guess," Chovchekovck says calmly, taking another puff of his cigar. "Richardson pay you well for this job, did he not Mr. Taskmaster?" He freezes, gun pointing straight at the Russian. "What do you say I pay you more and you do me favour. Da? Sound good?" Ever cool, Taskmaster drops his weapon and steps out.
"How much more?" The bodyguards escort him to the limo.
"How much you want?"
"Half a mil."
"Oh, you expensive da?"
"You have no idea."
"Get in car and we talk." Taskmaster tilts his head to the side and gives a slight nod before scooting into the limo.
Bodyguards on either side of him and Chovchekovck across from him, the blonde dumped for the night, the limo pulls away from the old bar. The crime lord gives him one long look over, picks up the phone to the driver, and talks in quick, deep Russian.
<Take us by the container terminal and park at our usual spot. I want to dump some trash.> Taskmaster eyes him carefully and fidgets slightly in his seat.
"So, before we get down to this 'favour', do you wanna know what I watched on TV this morning?" The looks he gets are absolutely priceless. Ah, if I've seen that expression once, I've seen it a thousand times.
Using the moment for his intended surprise, Taskmaster collides his fists sharply into the underside of the two bodyguards' chins, sending both reeling back.
"A Jet Li marathon." He says matter-of-factly, pulling out his desert eagle again. Kneeling on the floor, he aims the weapon directly at Chovchekovck's head. <Betcha didn't know I spoke Russian eh, Comrade?>
BLAM!
WESTCHESTER!
Codename: Taskmaster
Age: 26
Mutation:
Tony was born with the innate ability to duplicate any movement or action he witnessed. After watching another person preform an act, he is able to preform exactly that same motion without practice. His only limitations come from his body itself. His mutation does not include any physical alterations, so if he were to bare witness to, say, Colossus performing the Fast-ball special, he would be able to mimic the movements without flaw, but he would not possess the strength required to actually preform the action. The same applies for any other mutation associated ability, so telekinesis and other such powers are not mimicable.
He also has they ability to imitate any sound created by human vocal chords, though this cannot be done immediately like physical motions. Instead, he must practice several times before he can imitate it properly.
His mutation is purely dependent on sight (or sound, if he's trying to duplicate a voice) so heading into a fight with a new opponent serves to be incredibly hazardous to his health, but he is able to draw on past experiences to hold his own until he learns his enemy's strategies and is able to successfully predict the upcoming movements. He does not have to be in the immediate vicinity in order to memorize another's movements, a video will easily suffice.
Due to his enhanced memory, he retains all of his experiences, making him an expert in every form of combat he's witnessed, most of it being hand-to-hand and weapons training, with a small amount of knowledge of firearms, though his experience increases with everything he sees.
His mutation does not limit him to simply combat and voice imitation, but he is also able to, among other things, cook; assemble or disassemble bombs; and even play an instrument, all assuming he's witnessed it. This only includes the motions, so even if he watched someone preform a concert-grade piano solo, he would not be able to understand the sheet music, but he would be able to play the same music without fault.
Physical Description:
Tony prefers to keep his personal identity a secret, revealing it only to those he trusts immensely.
He stands around six foot two and possess a muscular frame while staying withing reasonable proportions.
His chosen attire always includes at least a tight-fitting, black spandex suit which covers his entire head, torso, and legs. Atop his head, Tony usually wears a steel mask that shields his face. The mask is in the form of a modernized skull with a detachable faceplate so that he may eat or drink through a hole in the suit underneath.
When in more dire situations, Tony adds a navy blue, hooded combat suit that is designed to carry his three chosen weapons; two semi-automatic pistols and a katana for hand-to-hand combat. He always wears the hood when he expects danger, so that it complements his skull mask and completes a Death-like image.
When not in costume, though this happens very rarely, Tony is seen in normal, professional clothing (because he is, after all, a man of integrity). He has short, wavy brown hair and brown eyes with a soft, handsome face. The perfect appearance to dissuade anyone from believing that he's really a wanted criminal.
Sometimes, if he still desires to be in casual attire without revealing his identity, he will keep the spandex and skull mask, while wearing his civilian clothing over top. But he never does this in public (it's either full costume, or his mild-mannered alter ego), only around those he knows, but doesn't quite trust.
Personality:
Tony is a well-rounded criminal with a cynical, dry sense of humour. Despite being a wanted felon, he is usually able to maintain a light, confident attitude in nearly any situation. He often makes a mockery of his partners and opponents and always criticizes them on their battle techniques, usually while actually fighting.
To those that are on agreeable terms with Tony, he his calm, quick witted and reasonable. To those on bad terms with him, he is ruthless and always swoops in for the kill...unless of course, it is definitely worth his while not to rid himself of them. And for those that he actually chooses to like, he's charming, polite and kind and readily offers to help, though these people are few and far between.
He is a known killer and at least somewhere on the FBI's wanted list, but regardless of his reputation, he is still a man of understandable decency, and will not engage a fight without proper reason. He will not do a job if he finds it morally unjust, and he will offer to protect those that are wrongfully targeted. He does, however, believe in revenge, and will take anyone out who he believes deserves to be taken out, unless persuaded (either in the literal sense of the word, or through more lucrative methods) otherwise.
He originally chose a life of freelance work as he found it to be far more rewarding and worth his specific talents, though since then, he has grown increasingly aware of his slipping virtues and tries to seek out more noble causes. It was those attempts at a noble lifestyle that eventually lead him to join the Brotherhood.
Background:
Unlike most mutants, Tony realized his powers around the age of eight, while most others remained oblivious until their teenage years. It was at the local swimming pool that he used his photographic reflexes and mimicked a professional diver. Of course, after duplicating the dive perfectly, he realized that he hadn't yet learned to swim, and nearly drowned as a result.
Since the event at the swimming pool, Tony and his parents noticed that we was able to pick up more and more abilities without having to actually practice them. He sat and watched his mother bake a cake, then baked the exact recipe an hour later, resulting in a perfectly matching cake. He watched a karate competition on television and was able to preform at black-belt's lever a moment later (though only those moves he had witnessed). The discovery came as a surprise to his parents, so they took Tony in to be analyzed by psychiatrists, who were the ones to officially announce his photographic reflexes.
His parents, thrilled by the idea of a possible genius son, pushed him through public school, at which Tony excelled. But for the most part, he used his abilities for personal gain. Sports were by far the easiest. Before trying out for his school's hockey team, he watched one professional game on television, analyzing Wayne Gretzky's tactics in the sport. He became both an academic and athletic success and rode the wave of fame throughout public school. But instead of continuing on to university, Tony opted to try and use his power out in the real world.
He found that fighting crime was a suitable use of his talents, but was not nearly as rewarding the actually life of crime. So in a moment of experimentation, he accepted a job eliminating a member of the Russian mafia. He didn't much care for the idea of killing, but he understood the risk the man posed if left alone. Tony staked out and observed the mafia man and his bodyguards for a few hours before deciding to engage his assigned enemy. He took a few punches and a bullet to the arm, but after a minute or two into the fight he had a suitable amount of information on the men. He was quickly able to subdue the bodyguards and successfully killed his mafia man.
He received his reward for the task and, thrilled with the idea of hired vigilante work, Tony shed his true identity and adopted the name Taskmaster, becoming one of the most sought after mercenaries in the business. But due to the hazardous nature of his work, Tony was also forced to rid himself of his past, segregating his family from his job in order to protect them. As a result, he staged his own death, seemingly killed in a car crash.
After several years in the mercenary business, Tony's conscience began to catch up with him. Sure, he was killing wanted criminals and crime lords, but it began to wear on him and his idea of virtuous behaviour started to slip. He had become a regular target by the law, and while he was able to escape whenever necessary, he realized that his chosen profession was not as honourable as he had once believe it to be.
After hearing about the events revolving around the 'Mutant Cure' and the risk it posed to his personal self, Tony set out to see what could be done about his future, and the future of other mutants. It was through some underground companions that he heard about the Brotherhood.
Intrigued by Magneto's goal of mutant superiority, Tony decided to join to see exactly what the Brotherhood could do for his suffering conscience. While he realized that he was not exactly choosing the best of two worlds (the second being to simply break down and return to crime-fighting), he reasoned that it was at least a step in the right direction, and that perhaps eventually, he would finally return to the world of the good.
Current Affiliation:
Brotherhood
Sample:
Taskmaster sits perched atop the three-story apartment building, night-vision goggles held to his skull-covered face.
"Come on...where are you?" He hisses, checking the time in hopes he hasn't missed the target.
Vladimir Chovchekovck. The biggest Russian mafia boss in Manhattan. Not an easy guy to find, and Taskmaster had no doubt that he'd be equally hard to kill.
"A guy with a name like Chovchekovck? This is definitely going to be a rough night." Luckily, before he had left his seedy little apartment, Taskmaster had watched the previous night's episode of ER, so he had confidence in his newly acquired doctoring skills. Provided, of course, the show practiced near-to-the-truth medicine. But, ER had never failed him before.
"Come on!" He growls, growing impatient. "One drink. You only ever have one drink!" If he misses this hit, that's three hundred grand in the toilet, something he can't afford at this point.
Just as he's about to go down into that bar and just shoot him point blank--screw the witnesses...and other possible mafia men--Chovchekovck finally makes his appearance.
He stands just outside the door; lit cigar in one hand, the nightly, tightly clothed blonde on the other.
"Oh, you do love your blondes, don't you?" Taskmaster mutters, pulling his desert eagle from his hip holster. As he watches, two massive bodyguards emerge from behind the Russian. They scan the area with sharp eyes while their boss simple grins and gropes his young entertainment.
And then one of the guards pulls a radio from his pocket and speaks into it. Taskmaster didn't need to be there to hear what he said. He'd watched a video on lip reading once, so that covered that.
"Bring it around," he watches the man mouth. Perfect timing really.
He had learned very quickly that Chovchekovck's limo almost never stayed stationary. No, that would have been to easy. One well placed bomb and he wouldn't be here now, waiting to drop down and nail the sucker.
Taskmaster hears the approaching car and moves over to the side of the building. Always knew playing Prince of Persia would come in handy. Then with a fwip, fwip, fwip, bounding between his building and the other seven feet away, he lands silently on his feet.
His dark costume keeps him hidden in the shadows as he prepares to take the shot. His aim is impeccable, courtesy of Dirty Harry.
"So am I feeling lucky? Oh yes. Very." He whispers, stepping closer and closer to the edge of the darkness.
"So let me guess," Chovchekovck says calmly, taking another puff of his cigar. "Richardson pay you well for this job, did he not Mr. Taskmaster?" He freezes, gun pointing straight at the Russian. "What do you say I pay you more and you do me favour. Da? Sound good?" Ever cool, Taskmaster drops his weapon and steps out.
"How much more?" The bodyguards escort him to the limo.
"How much you want?"
"Half a mil."
"Oh, you expensive da?"
"You have no idea."
"Get in car and we talk." Taskmaster tilts his head to the side and gives a slight nod before scooting into the limo.
Bodyguards on either side of him and Chovchekovck across from him, the blonde dumped for the night, the limo pulls away from the old bar. The crime lord gives him one long look over, picks up the phone to the driver, and talks in quick, deep Russian.
<Take us by the container terminal and park at our usual spot. I want to dump some trash.> Taskmaster eyes him carefully and fidgets slightly in his seat.
"So, before we get down to this 'favour', do you wanna know what I watched on TV this morning?" The looks he gets are absolutely priceless. Ah, if I've seen that expression once, I've seen it a thousand times.
Using the moment for his intended surprise, Taskmaster collides his fists sharply into the underside of the two bodyguards' chins, sending both reeling back.
"A Jet Li marathon." He says matter-of-factly, pulling out his desert eagle again. Kneeling on the floor, he aims the weapon directly at Chovchekovck's head. <Betcha didn't know I spoke Russian eh, Comrade?>
BLAM!
WESTCHESTER!
