Acerbus, was smiling knowingly as the vessel settled lower into the sea with more ice than a glass of brandy. "Oren,  you ready?"

"I'm ready if you are - this crate won't hold up as long as I'd hoped," Oren said as he tucked his flask into his belt and braced for yet another icy impact at the bow. The deck was cracking now...it was nowornever.they were still about 600 feet from shore though.

"Allright, lets stay together than, that way if one of us slips the other can have some sort of support, we are going to want to jump before the bow hits the water."

"There's no chance of helping the others, is there? They're too heavy for me, and it seems too bright for you."

"Well, I imagine the immortal will contain to remain so, the brawny ones should be able to take cold for some time, as for the old man and the doctor...well, lets hope they have some power hidden in reserve to help. Besides, we are here because we are all extremely difficult to kill. If any of us are defeated by a simple shoreline...well lets just say this is sink or swim. Heh."

'that's a bit on the literal side for you, isn't it kid?"

"Forgive the curtailing of my usual persona, I get excited at the prospect of all this doom and danger you know."

"You've got a young heart. that's okay though...it'd be a lie for me to say that I'm not looking forward to the fun!"

At that, Oren dashed forward toward the side of the ship,preparing toleap off onto the nearest iceberg.

Acerbus tensed for a moment, and saw Oren glance back with worry as he actually  leapt backward. Acerbus, flipped from the crumbling railing to the mast behind him, he braced, closed his eyes, exhaled and lunged. The mast behind him audibly snapped like a splintering bone, right at the point where his feet had been. Acerbus twirled through the air for a moment before straightening his flight. He hit an iceberg, slid for a moment until he could handle his momentum, two steps than lept again. He saw Oren navigating the frozen landscape alongside him and smiled as he observed. He certainly was good.Acerbus saw a particularily thin ice spire ahead marking around the half way point, when he hit it, he slid around it in a slow spiral to ease his momentum.

"Land." A smile even broke his lips. Land and shadows. A smile was definitely prescribed. He dashed up the lower deck steps emerging as a shark from the sea, hanging in the air for a moment for perching lightly on a railing as his landing. He would get to stretch his legs again it seemed. A shredded landscape of ice spires and glacial waste was percieved by Acerbus as a playground. He thought of years past, on some mission where a cut throat wasn't the end result, perhaps recon or protection, and feeling happy as the girth of night wrapped 'round him like a corset, his legs reacted to every surface, hard earth acted like springboard, each step was enhanced with the grace of the shadows, his strength even improved as his body was blending with the dying light, like blood and silver milking in and out before the plunger goes down in a fateful syringe long ago. Perhaps the lighting was not as beneficial as it had been in his recollection, but his pensive stint had at least prepared him for some travel. He yearned for the nearly automatic righting of his body over hellish terrain. The landscape reminded him of something he had read of the old world in his library back home, a journey through hell. The center of the pit being frozen over by the wings of the beast and never burning. "Only a man who runs from light could smile in the face of hell," he thought. He noticed other passengers allready up and emerging, seeing some of them with that same anxious look in thier eyes. It was excitement. Acerbus suddenly retreated back to his thoughts and wanted to know where some of these others had once been to welcome the coming gauntlet. A crew of masochist and all with weapons, how had they survived this long?

Acerbus flitted away from the gathering of people left to watch the spectacle and potential of thier peers. At this point they all seemed to seperate into thier bundles of intrigue anyway. He of course being guilty of the same, as his conversation with Oren was the stage for this fiasco. Oddly enough everyone seemed to be opening now, Like easter lillies. He would have to remember to resume his conversation with Oren. Perhaps it was simply because it was his first step out of solitude, but he seemed to enjoy the company. The arc of light that was once a star sunk lower into the sea. Acerbus could feel the reach of his ability extend. He flashed up the bulwark. Leaping across to the mast and lunged from there to the prow of the ship. The ornamented steel tip under the actual deck, between this and the lip of the upper deck he rested, out of view, utterly. Here at his gargoyle perch he closed his eyes, and welcomed the impeding night. His eyes were hungry, a stalking lion, when he opened them again. He focused his power to the ship, felt it churn through the sickened waters. His power swallowed the entire stucture, using his body as the cataylst, the conduit, he forced it forward. The pace of the vessel picked up percieveabely. His hands reached up onto the lip of the deck above and he braced. He wasn't sure if he could endure this for the entire night, but it was a welcome attempt, after a day of feeling stifiled it certainly helped. A waft of salt enchanted him, he thought of the old world tales of sea siren's calling and he smiled. It was a broken attempt, it was a memory from home, the small collection of stories that were old even before the world ripped apart. He wondered if that little library still existed. His attempt at manipulating the boat fell short, as did his hands. He held them, focused threads of light through them, weaved it, pulled it. It was a stress ball and little else.

How long since he had slept last?

He wondered if his security on the boat was ill imagined. He was surrounded by implied allies, all powerful in thier own right, and no foot steps can creep up if your not even on land, but that too was the concern. If footsteps were falling in his direction, he would never hear them coming.

The light blade Acerbus had been preparing didn't quite vanish, but it certainly diminished. Who would have thought the metal man had manners...

He hoped this showing hadn't ruined his new comrade's perception of him, he hung to the corner for power, not from fear. He saw the woman's eyes flash to his for a second, and he hid them under his hair, exhaling all the excitement and shadow that had embued him. He looked up again, "Isn't there a doctor somewhere on this boat?"

He was glad it hadn't come to blows, he could only imagine with what grace he could have slipped behind the man and tested his meddle. Metal. He chuckled at himself, Oren was right, he was lofty.

"My story," Acerbus starts, " is relatively straight forward. In a cosmic twist of irony my clan of people, sheltered from the silver, were betrayed by thier keeper, my father. I killed him when he started to turn against my people, not able to tie himself around the wage of his sin. I hate to be scarce on details but I prefer not to talk about my youth, I was twelve years old at the time. The first of my murders was indeed the hardest. I dont remember much after, I remember wondering how I even survived an encounter with my father, thinking he must have wanted the void to swallow him. I woke up, they were dissapointed I was the last one left alive. They were a merc group, assasins, killers, and well funded. I was thier first little silver experiment, it seems my people and thier descendants have a certain reknowned aptitude. Regardless, they bathed me in sterile light, and layers of me were burned away...forgive me, this is nonessential."

Acerbus's eyes flare defiantly now, the shadows travel through him, like smoke he exhales them.

"Let's just say this was not a pleasant adolesence, or a pleasant existance, as you can see, thier trainiing has left my control over the light spectrum a bit limited."

The light settles and disipates, resting in perfect balls in his palms which he holds upwards.

" You mentioned Nero and Eron, I have heard these names, apparently the facility you were at was a main affiliate, the corporate ring of hell, mine was an offshoot, the science behind it was from a factionized branch of the original experiment and funded by mercs in hopes of creating a controllable mutant I suppose. They were aware of each other, but not tolerating of each others existance. I was intended to sabotage projects Nero and Eron, I didn't know they where literal names, but conincidence is simply lazy assumption."

Oren took all of this in with an analytical ear… until Nero and Eron were mentioned. His face became visibly contorted, his eyes fastened to Ascerbus’ lips with an unseen intensity.

“So they wanted you to kill them, huh? I can’t believe they’ve been doing this shit to us – taking us as kids and turning us all into monsters! And then asking a kid to kill others like him… This world is ugly…” Oren took a final swig from his bottle of whiskey, and then his arm shot out at a blindingly fast rate, the bottle shooting out and slamming into and shattering against a wall next to another of their party that sat, holding his ribs.

“But I guess it’s not that simple, is it? Shades of grey and whatnot. Hah… well, I doubt you’d have had much success anyway. As a team, I don’t think anybody can stop them. Hell, they’d be a match for the damn Plant Man together. They’re the epitome of the enhanced Nervous System model. I’m good, but the headaches and seizures make me just another defect in the eyes of those scientists.”

Acerbus turns his head, trying to cover his eyes as he peers at the new comer. "Well Iv'e never met a man I couldn't kill, but any living man would tell you the same thing."

The arrival of the question send the light scurrying back for a minute, it quickly pulsed back around. Acerbus wasn't expecting words with this one, part of the reason why he thought it would be safe to stand near him. His face twist for a second, years of correctional methods almost snarl at the idea of dialogue, but he quickly grasps onto a sliver of himself that has survived. A stab of consistant personality that welcomed words that were not lashed to an agenda. Not many people care to ask when your life becomes staying hidden. This expanse of thought must have seemed longer to the stranger than to himself, as he turned away unsatisfied with the silence that wedged in between them.

Acerbus pins his eyes to the retreating stranger. " It's hard to fathom every drop of silver that the planet has purged into this sea. Are things living here, or simply acting of dictated will, if so, who's will?"

Silence settles back in but the man shifts back to face him, "Well," Oren replied, taking a sip of whiskey, "I've seen a lot in the forests back home. None of it seemed like it was natural in demeanor. It's not out of the question to assume that everything but us are the eyes and ears of the meteor. Or maybe we're not completely exempt, either. That's why I don't trust Cheryll further than that oaf over there could throw her - she was just as close to the meteor as the infamous Plant Man we're trying to stop."

"If the inclusion of interference from the meteor makes one untrustworthy, than we are all guilty of treason. I can only assume that this will is my own, but than again every step I take, including the ones that brought me to this ship, seem void of a real purpose. It seems rather implied. I wish I could recall what introspection was like before the fateful injection..."

Acerbus turns his hand into the darkest node of the shadow they stand in. The light wavers, tumultuous and than coats his hand growing nearly solid; he presses the tips of those fingers to his temples and exhales. "Truth is perception, and I am of my mind, if this has grown wasted from the toxins how should I know the difference?" "If the silver is my normality, than this eden should be hell for me; so I suppose our answer hangs ripe and waiting, soon enough. Lets head below deck shall we? before the sun melts this little haven of ours."

What a thoroughly disgusting idea, a ship like this. If any part of this cork decided to fail he would be left in this sea of mirrors with light all around him. Not to mention the deck was occupied with men who could break him, dangerous men. Without the advantage of terrain or darkness Acerbus clung to the dark belly of this bloated whale, or ventured into the shadow of the mast or captains corridor if mood striked. Only two people were aware of his presence at this point, the woman and Oren, one encounter was intentional, the other was a result of two people sharing the same bit of shade. It would be a good time to enter the wider north, not that this fact validated his presence on the vessel. Honestly, the reasoning behind his presence was vague at best, even to himself. This was frustrating. Perhaps he felt an end surging forth, like the bow cutting through the foam of the dying sea. Perhaps it was strictly knowledge that he sought. He was on an expedition with an ageless one, one who had known more details than even he did, even after research. This trip up north at very least would be a welcome departure from being hunted, even a soft spot for shadows doesn’t excuse needing to hide. Answers lied in the air, and Acerbus’s life was nothing more than a question.

He moved at once back under the deck. He rest his cheek against the cool inner hull and wished that sleep was still a part of his humanity. The darkness in here empowered him, he could feel the particles of light bending around him, dancing as his will. He let his body slide to a sitting position, with his back againt the hull of the ship. The air in front of him shimmered and fluxed as he twisted and wrung out what was acting as his contemplation. A song broke from his unhinged lips, soft and breaking like cresting waves knocking just behind his head. He closes his eyes, and the darkness before him settles back to a uniform dispersal.

*Sorry it took me so long Rytiko but I allready ran my character past you anyway. Forgive all grammar or confusing errors now please, I always make some*

Username: Virgil

Name: Acerbus

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Physical Description: In form and proportion nothing more than an adolescent. Thin, drawn taunt like wire, he is but a shadow of what one would consider a warrior, however this image and the presumption it carries is perhaps his greatest deception and weapon. His eyes are heavily marked from a life of little repast, some have even said the iris’s themselves ignite telling of a danger within. His hair is mostly left to hang where it may, often down over his telling eyes, he does not appreciate that the obvious lack of sleep could be perceived as a personal flaw. His skin itself is lacking in pigment, seeming to enhance his aversion to the light. His clothing is simple and varies from time to time as he carries a quick satchel to change garments, he abhors a dirty environment, especially a personal one. Often unlayered shirts and denim are the choice pieces. For shoes he has tabi of sorts from the remnants of sneakers and tied fiber. He prefers solid dark colors and is often sporting a hat of some kind if the day strikes as unusually warm. The only real consistency in his appearance is fingerless wrist length gloves and a black bandana usually tied around his upper arm. If he is to be seen at all that is. If he is in the mood for something more sinister it is usually tied around his lower face. Those in proximity to him have only managed to gather the consistent objects are part of an unspoken time in Acerbus’s life. The donning of such attire is more habit than choice.


Combat Info (power, weapon, etc.):
Acerbus’s power is technically defined as a specific sort of electromagnetic, light wave manipulation. His body has been made extremely sensitive to light, and his powers cannot be accessed during the day, or in exposure to bright light. If he were to try and manipulate the particles around him in such a circumstance, it would harm him physically and the endeavor itself would be nearly ineffectual. This limits Acerbus to relying on darkness and shadow. With fewer particles of radiation, he can manipulate the shadows around him and wield them to nearly limitless potential. For offense purposes the shadows can be forged into a blade capable of tearing flesh, for defense, the can use the radiation to capture energy based projectiles, and with focus he can solidify the form even blocking out any sort of missile. He is even capable of moving between dark area’s by imbuing his own body with the scarce radiation and then willing it to move to another locale. As he grows be becomes more and more resourceful with this ability, for Acerbus, despite him knowing and understanding the physical attribution of his power, it has taken on a near spiritual context, he relates the darkness as his own hate and power, and wields it in accordance to emotion. Hating to be out of control, he will use any means necessary to stay away from needing his power, which means he often struggles with his own internal humanity.
For Physical weaponry, Acerbus seems relatively unarmed. On his person he may carry a set of knives which are as well set for throwing as thrusting. His foes may have seen him draw a full length blade which he can meld with his own ability, but none have lived to account for this. Physical mutation aside, Acerbus is incredibly nimble and lithe. Nearly any surface is scalable and his aptitude for stealth has only been strengthened by his years in the dark.

Short Biography:
Reveal bits and bits with the story. For now let’s just say he’s got some pretty troubled roots.