Karate Bastard a passé la course sous-marine en silence pierreux. C'était en partie pour récupérer plus rapidement de la souche de l'utilisation de Palm de Bouddha - tout simplement en utilisant la technique avait tué les hommes plus petits. Beaucoup, beaucoup moins d'hommes. Mais surtout, il faisait le bilan de ses nouveaux alliés. Si le travail d'équipe devait être forcé sur lui, il valait mieux savoir qui était capable de quoi.
Et il semblait que le travail d'équipe lui était en effet imposé par ce mystérieux M. Sinister, qui qu'il fût. Contrairement à certains des autres, KB n'a rien fait de plus que de lever un sourcil à la mention des nanites- qui, il s'est avéré, étaient sur le point de libérer suffisamment de curare et de cyanure pour tuer vingt personnes normales dans le sang de KB si Keith essayait n'importe quoi. Assez pour le tuer deux fois.
Curieusement, il n'a pas été insulté du moins par le besoin de M. Sinister de lui mettre une laisse. Au lieu de cela, KB l'a pris comme une marque de respect. Un geste entre égaux. M. Sinister était clairement assez conscient de la capacité de KB à ressentir la nécessité de prendre des précautions extrêmes. Le vieux voyou savait exactement à quel point Keith pouvait être dangereux. Tant mieux. Il n'y aurait pas de malentendus.
Quand Jenkins a fini leur briefing, Keith a trouvé sa couchette marquée. Il secoua la tête sur les draps blanchis et l'oreiller doux, avant de les déchirer entièrement du lit et de les laisser dans un tas sur le sol. KB dormait sur le matelas nu. Un homme ne devrait pas avoir trop de réconfort. Ça le rend doux. C'est comme ça que les hommes sont devenus des sooks, comme cette petite fille qui gémit. Il ne pouvait pas croire qu'Ellie faible était venue avec eux, demandant à d'autres personnes de se battre pour elle. Pathétique. Cette créature bizarre, cependant, le général. Celui qui avait jeté le tantrum. C'était une créature que Karate Bastard pouvait respecter. Le grand pâle semblait aussi bien. Peut-être que travailler avec ces gens ne serait pas si mal.
Il a passé quelques minutes à maudire alors qu'il a essayé et a échoué à travailler la tablette, avant d'abandonner et de jeter la chose sans souci sur le lit. Toujours à poil, KB s'est rendu au salon à la recherche de nourriture et de boissons.
Il n'a pas été déçu sur ce front. Un bar complet et une table l'ont accueilli. Après des mois de nourriture en prison, les deux avaient l'air somptueux. Bien que Keith se méfie généralement du luxe, il estime que les repas sont un bon moment pour se livrer. La bonne nourriture faisait partie d'un corps fort, et le bon vin faisait partie d'une âme heureuse. Souriant sincèrement, KB a empilé une assiette avec des offres riches en calories et en protéines, puis s'est ambré jusqu'à la barre et a regardé à travers la verrerie. Il contempla brièvement un petit verre avant de le jeter à l'aide d'une éternue. Au lieu de cela, il a pris un grand gobelet d'eau et l'a rempli au bord de Lagavulin. KB avait pris goût à Scotch lors de sa tournée tourbillonnante en Écosse. Il avait laissé savoir comment se battre avec Claymore, Lochaber hache, et dirk, sans parler d'une arnaque des techniques traditionnelles de lutte. Et bien sûr, il avait laissé derrière lui douze artistes martiaux morts. Il sourit à la mémoire. C'est le bon temps.
Avec des rafales, il a commencé à louper la nourriture, en arrêtant seulement pour arracher les bouches de whisky cher. Keith Blackwell jouissait de sa nouvelle liberté.
Name: Keith Blackwell
Alias: Karate Bastard
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Personality: Keith is massively, incredibly arrogant- there's a reason they call him Karate Bastard. He firmly believes that he is the best martial artist in the world, questioning or denying that will drive him into a blind rage. Keith despises the very notion of weakness and will never admit to making a mistake. Not a man who has or wants any friends, though he will make alliances if it suits him.
History: Keith was born into New Zealand's famous and wealthy Blackwell family, known worldwide for their fine wine. Ensconced in an Auckland penthouse, Keith grew up wanting for nothing and continually having his ego fed. His parents, hoping for a well-rounded child, enrolled him in karate classes at age 15. There was nothing special about it to them, it was the same as the piano lessons, cooking classes, and reading program.
But Keith Blackwell quickly discovered he had an innate talent- a genius, really- for fighting. He understood and mastered the techniques intuitively, surpassing the teachers at his local school in a matter of months. Keith begged his parents to use their money to send him to Okinawa, the birthplace of karate, for a real education in the art. And so, at the tender age of sixteen, Keith Blackwell was put on a plane to Naha.
The training was brutal and merciless, but Keith took naturally to it. His ego grew even further as he became capable of even more outrageous feats, sharpening his body to extremes. He learned meditation, traditional medicine, the use of weapons. But the biggest thrill came after two years of study, when an argument with a drunken local escalated into a full-on brawl. Keith killed the man, breaking his neck with a single blow. It was as he was hiding the body that Keith Blackwell experienced a moment of blinding, glorious clarity- he was destined to be the strongest fighter who ever lived. Anyone who died in his quest to achieve that was merely a mark of his quality, a measure of how he had fulfilled his purpose. The vintage on his family's grapes was counted in years, his destiny was counted in the number of skilled opponents he defeated.
Any pity or compassion that was in him was crushed. After the day's rigors at the dojo, he would quietly slip into the red-light district of Naha and participate in underground fights sponsored by the local Yakuza family. When his actions were discovered by the sensei of the dojo, Keith was immediately expelled. He took the expulsion with a surprising amount of grace- he felt limited by karate.
From there, he traveled the world on his parents' money, learning as much as he could about fighting. Wing chun in Hong Kong, vovinam in Vietnam, fencing in Italy, capoeira in Brazil, dambe in Nigeria, hapkido in South Korea, knife combat in the Philippines, lucha libre in Mexico, savate in France- just a small sample of the eighteen years of intensive training in virtually every martial art he could find an instructor for. When Keith felt he had learned what he wanted to, he would typically challenge (and kill) his teacher and their top students. After all, their deaths were the mark of his success. Lately, he has started seeking out fighters specifically to fight them, for the rush of testing his skills.
WGUF-What Got You Famous: Keith's probably endless quest has just brought him to the United States. The idea of fighting superheroes interests him. As a warmup, though, he decided to take on several of the West Coast's better fighters. A boxer in Los Angeles was decapitated by an uppercut from Keith, a dojo owner in San Francisco had his eyes gouged out. Finally, Keith stormed into the ring during a title MMA match in Lochwell and bloodily murdered both fighters- and the referee, and the security guards who tried to stop him, and a guy with an annoying voice. He didn't resist arrest by ARGO- Keith has heard American prisons are pretty tough, there might be a good fight or two in there before he decides to leave.
Equipment: Karate Bastard will use traditional martial arts weapons on occasion, but does not possess any at the moment- ARGO took them all.
Powers/Abilities/Skills/Talents: Keith Blackwell has an innate ability to understand and master martial arts in short order. Twenty years of study in the discipline has given him tremendous skill at fighting. His intensive training has pushed his body well past what would normally be considered human limits- it is possible that he possesses genuine superpowers but that has never been investigated.
In particular, his speed and reflexes are at the peak of human potential. His strength is such that he can lift half a ton without exertion, and his knowledge of striking technique means that he is able to easily ram his bare fist through a brick wall. In addition, he is far more resistant to pain or injury than the average person and heals much more quickly.
Weakness: Due to his tremendous arrogance, KB will rush into things without any kind of plan whatsoever, without considering the odds against him. As he has done little with his life outside of study martial arts, he is socially backwards and has little understanding of modern technology or society. He has no real ability for ranged combat. Despite his increased ability to withstand injury, he is not impervious to it. Bullets, bombs, poison- it might take more of it than usual, but these things can indeed kill him.
Secret Hideout: None- KB only recently arrived in the country.
Relationships: None.