Name: Gregory Hiltman
Age: 19(Biological) 204(Chronological)
Race: Genetically Modified Human
Gender: Male
Hair: Short and dark brown. He usually keeps it neat and combed back.
Eyes: Hazel
Weight: 243lbs
Height: 6 feet 10 inches
Armor: He wears no armor, because he has no need to. His body can withstand enormous amounts of trauma.
Weapons: For the most part he just uses his fists, but he does carry a concealed
Ruger SP-101 in case of emergencies. A situation like that only happens once in a blue moon however, and if he ever has to resort to using the pistol he's probably already lost the battle. He is also proficient at wielding most energy weapons, but he finds them awkward to use.
Strengths: He is incredibly strong, the most he's been able to lift is about six tons however lifting that much weight is a huge strain on his body and leaves him exhausted. He is also extremely resistant to damage. Bullets, grenades, and artillery shells barely cause him any pain, but the force of the explosion can knock him back if it's powerful enough. His strength, combined with his incredibly hard and invulnerable body make him a human artillery shell. He can punch his way through steel, concrete, and even the thick armor on an Iowa class battleship. This was proven when he was pitted against a tank and was able to not only withstand a shot from its main gun, but was able to punch his way into the cockpit.
He was also able to adapt to new environments and situation. For example if you poured lava on him, his body would become more heat resistant. This ability has waned over the years, and now only produces a noticeable effect after a near death experience.
It has been predicted that he will live for thousands of years because his cells do not wear down as quickly as they do in other people. This has caused his cellular reproduction to slow to the point that it’s measured in decades. If he is hurt however, his cells will multiply and heal at the normal rate. He has received combat training from his time in the US Army and has some skill at coming up with battle strategies. He can also go much longer than the average person without food or water.
He does not flaunt his powers, which leads many to believe that he is just a normal human being. While this deception is not intentional, he has no qualms with using it to his advantage should the need arise.
Weaknesses: He has no resistance to magic. Most forms of magic can cause him significant harm, and it is one of the few things that could potentially kill him. His body has not been able to develop a resistance to magic despite encountering it multiple times. Energy weapons such as laser pistols can be blocked by his skin, but they leave severe burns, this can be debilitating if he's not careful. In the twentieth, and early to mid twenty first centuries this wasn’t a problem for him, but as weapons technology advanced he found that they had become a major threat.
He cannot come into contact with acid of any kind, even the weak acid found in chili peppers causes him intense pain, and can leave gaping wounds in his body. This was a fail safe programed into his genetic coding to ensure that he could be stopped should he go rouge. This includes his own stomach acid, and he is extremely careful no to do anything that would damage the mucus lining his stomach walls, or else the hydrochloric acid would burn through his intestines and kill him.
His body is not much heavier than usual and can still be tossed around by large explosions, or other beings with super human strength. He is also not very agile, and can run only at an average speed. His large body makes it nearly impossible for him to use any kind of stealth, and he is an utter fool when it comes to climbing. Due to his nature Gregory will outright refuse to fight if he believes bystanders would get hurt in the process. Even if his opponent begins to attack him he will not retaliate.
Skills/Magic: None.
Appearance: His height, broad shoulders, huge biceps, and massive chest make him look intimidating. He keeps his hair neat, short, and combed back. His face has somewhat well defined except for his nose, which is slightly rounded. His cheeks are full but not puffy, and his jawbone is sharply defined. His eyes are slightly narrower than usual, but it’s somewhat difficult to notice. It does not appear that he has aged a day since he turned nineteen, and he still has a very youthful look about him.
He prefers to wear the simplest and most comfortable clothes possible. He usually settles for a denim jacket, a long sleeved shirt, some jeans, and tennis shoes. He does keep a wardrobe which has most of the clothing one would find in a wardrobe, and as expected he wears different attire as appropriate.
Personality: Gregory is what you would call a gentle giant, he tries to avoid trouble if possible and has never started a fight since he acquired his superhuman abilities because he fears hurting or killing another person. If he can, he will try to talk an aggressor out of fighting him. It is virtually impossible to truly anger him, although he does get annoyed somewhat easily. He has also worked to improve his willpower and self control. He is incredibly patient, never becoming annoyed at the prospect of waiting for something.
Despite being constantly compared to comic book superheros, Gregory doesn’t want to go out and fight criminals. Calling him a “hero” will irritate him, and has lead to many arguments in the past. This doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care for others. If he sees someone in trouble, he will not hesitate to help, but as he’s quick to point out he never goes out and patrols the streets.
He very quiet, and a good listener. Many people go to him for advice or if they want a sympathetic ear. Gregory is very good at calming people down, and could subdue even the most enraged person without lifting a finger. He walks and talks very slowly and deliberately in an attempt to conceal his unnatural power. He doesn't do this to try and deceive his opponents, but because he prefers to be viewed as normal.
He has been alive for over two centuries, and has witnessed many of his friends' deaths. Knowing that he will outlive virtually everyone he becomes acquainted with has left him somewhat depressed and lonely. In an attempt to counter this he tries to be around people as much as possible, but he rarely lets someone get close to him emotionally.
Biography: It was a warm summer night on the west coast of the United States. In the cities it was bright, noisy and the air was polluted with smog. In the suburbs however, it was tranquil. There was almost no noise, as everyone slumbered int their cosy homes. The streetlamps gave off a comforting, yet strangely eerie light. A beautiful crescent moon hung overhead in a clear cloudless night. A slight breeze flowed through and gently rustled the grass.
Only the crickets with their soft chirping dared to break the silence, and a seventeen year old boy in a new convertible roaring down streets. He swerved once, and nearly hit a truck before coming to a stop in front of one of the houses. It was a two story house with brown shingles, white painting and a red door. In front of it was neatly trimmed lawn, although the summer was clearly taking its toll on the grass. There were little yellow patches scattered around the green field.
Gregory pulled himself out of the car and stumbled his way towards the door. As he neared he noticed a briefcase with a piece of paper attached to it. With some effort he managed to bend over and pick up the note. As he read it his expression became more and more outraged and infuriated. His parents had kicked him out.
“Is that the way you want it you bastards? Fine, I’m gone. See you both in hell!” he shouted at the house, kicked the door. He picked up the briefcase and trudged back to his car. He slumped back into the seat and mulled over the note.
...It's too much for us to handle... We don't know what to do with you anymore... You're always drunk... We gave you everything, even a new car, and you never showed any gratitude... We recommend joining the Army. You could use some discipline..."
"I wasn't really that bad, was I?" Gregory thought to himself as he started up his convertible and began driving toward the city.
"The Army," he said out loud to himself.
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Gregory sat waiting for General Decker and the doctor to return. He stared at his palms and noticed that they were shaking and sweaty. He balled them into fists and looked up. The room was small with just a desk, a chair and a bed. There were posters on the wall some showing the organs of the human body, and other displaying various diseases. On the desk was a model of a human head, with one half removed to show the internal components of the mouth, nose, and brain. There was a calender that revealed the date to be August 16, 1962.
“Why did I sign up for this? What are they gonna do to me?” he mumbled to himself, and then heard heavy footsteps approaching the door. A stocky man in a military uniform, an a thinner but taller man in a white coat strode into the room.
“Okay Corporal Hiltman, we’re ready to begin,” said the General as the doctor reached forward to pull Gregory to his feet. Gregory pushed the doctor’s hand away and stood up.
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"Are you sure this will work, Doc?" asked the General.
"I'm sure of it, the process was quite simple," was the reply.
Gregory Hiltman was asleep in the ICU ward, while General Decker and Doctor Rubinstein observed him through a window.
"I don't understand it, you take genes from his bones, do some scientific gobbledygook to it, and we make a superman?" grumbled the General.
"We merely enhanced the natural genetic properties of the bone. You see whenever the bone is damaged, it actually become more resistant to trauma as it heals. It becomes denser, and harder. His body will now become harder and denser every time it is traumatized. This will probably carry over to physical strength as well. Why, there's no telling how powerful he could become!" exclaimed the Doctor giddily.
"Not too powerful for us to control, I hope," said the General gravely.
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Gregory was at a military base, he had not been told where the base was, and on the journey they had gone so far as to blindfold him. Now he was in what appeared to be the bases proving grounds, a wide field that had multiple obstacles designed to test the suspension of tanks. There were also some tanks the Gregory guessed were from World War Two. They sat waiting for their younger counterparts to roll onto the field and use them for target practice.
“Alright, bring in the M103,” came a voice over the loudspeaker. Gregory prepared himself as the tank rolled into view. As it lumbered across the field Gregory couldn't keep his eyes off of the 120 millimeter main gun that was now aimed right at him. Above the main gun was one of the tank crew who had manned the secondary machine gun.
“First off we’re gonna test your endurance, fire the machine gun, private,” called the voice on the loudspeaker. The private was hesitant to open fire on Gregory.
“It’s alright private, if our tests are correct it shouldn’t even faze him,” the private didn’t seem to reassured by this, but opened fire anyway. A spray of thirty calibur bullets splashed against Gregory’s body. The bullets stung a bit, but he was able to take an entire belt of ammunition without flinching, but he did notice that he had been pushed back about half a foot by the hail of bullets.
“Very good, now lets see what he can really take, fire the main gun!” ordered the voice on the loudspeaker. The tank fired a round, the recoil knocking it back slightly. The round connected with Gregory’s abdomen, and exploded. The blast knocked him back well over ten yards, he cried out in shock and pain. He landed on his back, his ears ringing. He slowly stood up, shook his head put his hand on his stomach. The heat from the blast had left a painful burn, but that was the extent of the damage he had taken.
“Okay Corporal I’m sure that at this point you’re pissed off at the guys in that tank, go ahead and show them what you can do,” said the man on the loudspeaker. Gregory wasn’t really all that angry with the tank crew, they were just doing their job, but he decided to follow orders. He ran at the tank and threw a few punches at the side armor. Every time his fists made contact with steel armor on the tank it left a dent. He kept pummeling the armor and eventually was able to rip through to the tank’s cockpit.
“That’s enough now,” called the loudspeaker voice, still in a calm flat tone even after witnessing this supposedly impossible feat.
Gregory wondered at his own power. He had just single-handedly defeated a tank, and he was barely winded. He could take on a whole army if he wanted to. It was then that Gregory realized that if he was used by the military, he would become an incredibly destructive force in the world. He decided that he didn’t want that, for himself, or for the rest of humanity. He knew that the Army wouldn’t just let him go, so he began plotting his escape.
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Gregory sat again, this time in an airplane. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the rough white and blue fabric of the airline seat. He had snuck away from the base the first chance he got, had gone to the nearest city, and had bought himself a new pair of clothes, with the small amount of money had had kept on himself. His size had not made this easy, and the clothes he was wearing were two sizes too small for him, but it was the best he could do.
He had then stolen a car and drove to a larger city with an airport, sold the car and used the money buy a plane ticket.
"Stewardesses please prepare for take off," came the voice of the plane's captain over the intercom.
"I made it, I'm home free," Gregory thought with a sigh of relief. The stewardesses began to squeeze their way through the narrow walkway between the seats, checking to make sure every passenger was comfortable.
"Pillow, sir?" inquired one of the stewardesses.
Gregory opened his eyes slightly. The stewardess was shorter than her coworkers, and skinnier as well. She appeared to be very young, probably in her late teens. She wore the same white and blue blouse tucked neatly into a thick but short white skirt that all of her fellow employees did.
"No I'm fine," came his reply. The stewardess smiled before continuing her trek to the front of the plane.
The plane began to roll down the runway and picked up speed. The front wheels of the aircraft lifted off the ground and the rest of the plane quickly followed suit. The plane eventually leveled and began its journey north, blasting air out of its huge engines and whipping by clouds. Inside the plane however, it was peaceful. Gregory soon drifted off to sleep, his dreams filled with hopes of a peaceful, quiet life.
09-10-2009, 12:17 PM
