In a world where 80% of the population has genetic powers or mutations called "quirks", it rare but not impossible to be powerless. (Y/N) Rowe is one of those rare people. That doesn't stop him from trying to be a hero, a REAL hero, in the form of v...
He had never desired to kill. In fact, he'd never intentionally killed anybody before. Of course, it was entirely possible that some of the police and pro heroes that he had faced off against before being captured by Augustine and imprisoned in Curdun Cay could have died of their injuries later, however he had never delivered an outright killing blow.
The blood on his hands that had come from the heavy DUP officers chest had certified that that had changed.
Even as he robbed banks and high-end stores for cash and fought against the police and pro heroes, Even through all the human experimentation that had been done to him to find the innermost workings of his quirk, even through the humiliation and indignation that he felt as they stripped him of his dignity by their cruel containment methods, even through the pain and suffering of having being forced through grueling militaristic training under the guise of rehabilitation, even through all that, he'd never wanted to kill someone.
He still didn't.
But he had.
He didn't know what to do. They were in the middle of nowhere. He didn't even speak Japanese. Why would he? He'd never come here by choice. And he just murdered a man. He ended a life. A person. All he could think to do was run. Run away from his mistake.
Run where? He didn't know. Somewhere. Anywhere that wasn't there. Lay low for a while, find some way to get back to America, and try to forget this ever happened or beg for forgiveness.
For a while, he didn't. Almost one full year.
He'd been in the underground, hiding from the law. Fighting against other thugs for cash since he had nothing but the clothes on his back, a tattered hoodie over his prison uniform to hide it.
He was able to learn the basics of Japanese, just enough to buy things like food and water whenever he had money.
He was never able to get a chance to board some sort of plane or boat back to America, the security being significantly tighter than that of American airports or shipyards as theft reports had been popping up more often recently.
He was surviving, waiting for his chance to slip through the cracks and make it back to his homeland. He didn't take unnecessary risks.
Unfortunately, old habits die hard.
A bank. lightly guarded, no Pro heroes around.
It was just too tempting. He was tired of scraping by on almost nothing, tired of having to fight for ramen packets or expired bread just to eat.
He couldn't help it.
Sneaking in behind the bank, he tossed off his shirt and tattered dirty jacket, held out his hand, smoke running up and gathering in his palm, until...
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*BOOM*
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Hey.
So, this one was on hold for a while, and I actually have a good reason for that.
I was going through a emotional time. Nothing immensely traumatic like a parent dying or something, no. It was more rage-Inducing than sad.
I got VAC banned.
A TF2 bot was using my name, and I was the one who had the blame placed onto.
Which is bullshit.
I lost $70+ worth of items. That's a lot of money for me to spend on a game.
So yeah, I was just kinda taking my time to cool off from that. I'm still mad about it. immensely so. But what's done is done, so now I've just gotta play like...
I don't know, Genshin impact or Minecraft or something.
Whatever, Here's a cute picture of hex manic I found.
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