<strong>Player Name:</strong>Shihong<br/><strong>Character Name:</strong>Sabotage<br/><strong>Real Name:</strong>Tom Wyatt<br/><strong>Gender:</strong>Male<br/><strong>Age:</strong>24<br/><strong>Nicknames:</strong>"Boomer", "Mr. Grafitti", "The Mad Painter"<br/><strong>Profession:</strong><em>By Day:</em>Student taking classes half-time at a community college.<em>By Night:</em>Urban Terrorist<br/><strong>Personality:</strong><br/><strong>Appearance Out of Costume:</strong>(1) (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Characters/Sabotage4-1.png)<br/><strong>Appearance in Costume:</strong>[Pictured]<br/><strong>Relationships:</strong>No family to speak of.  Lives with his On-Again-Off-Again girlfriend, Stacy Williams (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Characters/SabotageandGumby-1.png), who is both aware of and actively<em>encourages</em>his nocturnal behavior.  Addicted to cigarettes, chems, and body modification, and has just the right connections to the suppliers Tom needs for his Paint Bombs.<br/><br/><strong>History:</strong><br/><br/>Yet another victim of gang violence, another tally for the statistical records, Thomas lost his parents when he was still in High School.  Until that point he had been fascinated by the arts, particularly in the contemporary movements that drew surreal landscapes out of empty canvases and shattered perception with layer upon layer of vibrant paints that stung the eyes and warped the mind like a potent visual drug.  Aesthetics were everything, from the worry lines in people's faces to the peculiar way a tree struggled to survive amidst concrete jungles like a hand clawing out of the earth.<br/><br/>Unwilling to let Child Services stick him with some temporary foster family so late in life, he fled the public eye and the authorities.  On some crazy whim he wound up on Stacy's doorstep, a drugged out young woman that he had only spoken to a scant few times.  Rather than throw him out, the lucid young woman saw the pain weighing on his shoulders and allowed him to move in what what little he had.<br/><br/>Though he eventually returned to get a GED so that he could begin taking classes on the sly and continue the education that his parents had started him down, their deaths consumed his life utterly.  He began to see Gotham for what it really was: a gray city saturated with pain and madness, infected down to its very core.  Where once he could see beauty in a piece of trash rustling in the wind, or in the way the sunlight diffused through a layer of black smog, he now found himself honing in on all the ugly things in life.  His artistic sensibilities screamed and wailed against his skull like a trapped animal, begging to inject some life into the fetid corpse of an urban landscape.<br/><br/>So he did, though it started small at first.  A mural seemingly blooming to life on the side of a drab corporate skyscraper overnight; a heartfelt promise of change scrawled in massive neon letters over billboards that were surely too tall for any normal hooligan to deface; elegantly flowing mustaches and goatees strewn across telescreens in Central Square, marking newscasters and spokespeople as comical devils.  No surface seemed untouchable, no wall sacred enough or well-guarded enough to avoid his brush and his cans of spray paint.  He enlisted the help of other like-minded street artists, organizing them and sending them to all parts of the city in order to spread the word.<br/><br/>But with the rise of a new Batwoman, the filth of the city only seemed to grow.  With a single target to focus all of their fury against the criminals of Gotham started banding together in tumorous lumps, hoping fervently that greater numbers would serve to deter this Defender of the Night.  His messages were ignored and forgotten, merely a minor nuisance for the city's cleaners, and Tom's little band of avant-garde artists was swiftly forgotten in the face of greater threats.<br/><br/>There was only one thing to do:  Get Louder.  Bigger.  More extravagant, until the city would be forced to listen to his every word.  "The Art" had suddenly become less important than "The Word", the means by which he hoped to open the eyes of Gotham to the taint surrounding them and get those souls who remained unbroken in the face of corruption to stand up for themselves and demand action.  That he might only be exacerbating the problem never came to mind.<br/><br/>Using Underground chemicals, a process that came surprisingly easy to the young man who had never had much interest in the sciences, Thomas turned his paints into devastating weapons:  "Paint Bombs".  Essentially modified grenades, these weapons packed enough punch to blow through stone while splattering mind-numbing neon colors on every nearby surface.  The fumes from the chemical cocktail were as potent as a can of pepper spray, providing excellent cover and turning his little crusade into full blown terrorism.  His major targets tend to be corrupt organizations, other gangs, and especially corporations with nasty secrets to hide.<br/><br/><div align="center">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v296/rcburner/Characters/Sabotage2-1.png)</div>