Name: Damien Wilson<br/>Alias: Ravager<br/>Location: Mount Justice<br/>Tagged: Open.<br/><br/><em>"Son, why do you want to be a hero? They're going to know you're my kid and as a result? None of them are going to trust you or even want to be around you." Came his father's smug voice from behind the distinctive mask he wore, his sister had a katana slung over her shoulder and grinned at him before pointing at him with the blade. "Hell of a hero if I've ever seen one. What? With the guns, swords and bodies you leave in your wake." Slade held up his hand and glanced at his daughter, "I'm not disagreeing with you Rose, but try to be a bit nicer to your brother...Are you sure you want to go through with this? If we wind up having to face each other? I won't give you a pass, you know this." He remained stoic throughout it all, barely moving aside from a small but distinct nod. "I'm aware dad."</em><br/><br/>Damien sat on his bed, and slowly worked the blade of one of his knives over a stone designed to keep the edge sharp. He could smell it on all of them, hell he could hear their hearts beating and taste the beads of sweat in the air. He didn't know what he was doing here. He wasn't a fan of people in the least, and his family had been at ends with the cape community for years. The first time he broke an opponent's arm, or collapsed a lung or even put a bullet in someone? He knew the reaction was going to be anything less than positive. Still, Damien was born with these abilities for a reason. To not use them for something approaching good seemed a waste. It was impossible to relate to these self righteous teens however, even if he was one.<strong>"At least give them a shot, they're giving you one and you don't want to be a hypocrite."</strong>He muttered under his breath as the scrape of the steel against the stone echoed lightly.