Name: Birdro, Karpov "Smith"

Age: 20

Birthday: 10/12/1987

Birth Place: Tunguska, Russia

Weapon(s): Large hammer made of strange metal, which he is nicknamed after because he looks like one carrying it, "Smith".

Strengths: Heightened senses, including sight and hearing ; Increased strength and speed ; larger memory capacity ; developing psychic abilities increasing as age progresses. Can speak any language fluently and with the local accent, after hearing of course.

Weaknesses: Weakness to super sonic air wave frequencies (think DareDevil ) ; huge random head aches will strike without notice, caused by psychic abilities developing. A bullet to the head. ( He's not superman! )

Power(s): Mind reading, telekinesis, basically anyway a person can emmit phycic energy into a concentrated form. Karpov is learning how to use phycic powers to do other things, like sensing past energy and mental projection. The longer Karpov uses his phycic power his ability to concentrate will diminish with time ( being affected by such things as the wieght of the object ) and he act almost like a drunk with a buzz on. His physical stamina stays, but his ability to think and act accordingly to such things as an attack or a quip will be the same as a drunk's if he overextends himself. This applies to all phycic powers. The more he pratices, with any power, the longer he is able to use his powers to a fuller extent. If he dosen't know how to do the things he needs to, he can somehow, without doing anything conciously, summon up memories of people doing what he needs to do, and how to do it, adding to his repitour of powers.

Appearance: Six feet tall, burly exterior. Large arms, a bear-fur jacket with gnarled copper buttons. Black leather belt with a golden buckle. Bear-fur pants that go over leather hiking boots. Leather hat lined with fur. Black hair drooping over a wide pale face. Eyes are stout, with one brown pupil in the left and a blue in the right. Exposed ears, wide frown, and a short chin.

Personality: Finds it hard to trust strangers, and even closest friends. Mocking his country or his family ( His mother is the red button. ) can result in broken bones, if your slow or cannot withstand being inflated like a balloon by phycic powers. Though he looks mean, he sometimes helps an injured animal or random person who is in danger. Sometimes finds other cultures strange or humorous, but will not say it if it will cause him to miss out on the local cuisuine. If the previous sentence didn't help, he loves food. Is loyal to those who help him in the cause that he joins and will not betray anyone willingly.

Bio: Found in the woods inside a small metal chamber by two other Russians, a man and his wife, in the tundra, he was quickly adopted by them and raised as their own. Leading a normal childhood for eight years, he quickly became the top student of the school house that had been built three years after finding him, an incident befell his parents.

The house in which Karpov had been raised and fed was destroyed in what the police called a “gas explosion,” though the family had no gas stove. Karpov wanted dearly to see his parents, but it was insisted that he never even return to the wreckage.

Soon a van came to the school that Karpov had been when hearing the horrible news, two men in white coats took Karpov and brought him to an unknown facility for which reason he could not understand at the time. Taken to a windowless room, he was asked question after question about his parents, himself, and his birth from a speaker. Every question he answered to the best of his ability, not wanting the scary men to hurt him, into a microphone in front of him on the table. Soon, Karpov was released from the facility, placed in a van and driven back to the school from which he came.

The teachers were gone, the school locked, and with nowhere left to go, wandered the streets of Tunguska for another three years of his life, becoming a drifter and from time to time, a con-artist and thief.

After those three years of landing in juvenile penitentiaries repeatedly, he was picked up by a van looking like the one that had picked him up three years before when his parents had died. He was given a narcotic and woke a few hours later in a windowless room. Still feeling the effects of the narcotic, he began to hear a voice from a speaker in the room. He was bound at the arms and could not move, and his three-years worth of street sense told him not to. Again he was asked question after question, until he was knocked out cold and thrown back into the streets.

Another three years of his life went by and the same thing happened, until he was eighteen years of age, instead of being picked up by a van, he was left alone on the streets. Then, he walked the streets, unable to sleep, Lights of some unknown origin then flew above him. Looking at them, he went under some kind of hypnosis, falling asleep. When he awoke he found himself in some kind of cell, with no windows or bars, just a circular silver wall room. He somehow felt weak at the knees and all most fell twice, but his resolve held him.

Some unseen doors opened in the wall, and two human figures entered, wearing strange garbs. They spoke to him in some language he had never heard before, but he could somehow understand them.

“Come with us,” they had said to him. He followed, for to reasons. One, he was curious, two, he didn’t want to die in such a strange place.

“Learn of your true origins.” They came to a large screen, and so far Karpov had not yet seen a single other person. The screen lit up, and Karpov could see perfectly, like it was a window. There was a large tube filled with green liquid, and tubes ran through it. He could only faintly see a small body inside. The image left the screen and he could see a small pod on the floor of some hangar. The pod’s jets, or something like it, thrust it forward into outer space. The image changed again, this time showing the pod going to some blue planet. Earth.

“Follow us.” He followed as they asked. They created me, he realized. They led him to a table, on it was some kind of large hammer, and when he tried to pick it up, it felt extremely light

“This weapon of battle is yours, and your abilities as one of our many Jorags will come soon.” He once again fell into a slumber and woke on the streets of Tunguska. He thought it was a dream, until he found the hammer. Then, a splitting headache came over him, and he looked at a car on the other side of the street. It blew up, shards of metal flew toward him, but they stopped inches away. He under stood now what the strange people had said.

He has since then traveled the world searching for any evidence of what happened to his adoptive parents, along with discovering his surfacing abilities.

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My BA warriors.Xitra HyninKarpov "Smith" Birdro