Dr. Jim Byrne's File #167 - Drake:
Name: Drake
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 192 lbs
Alignment: S.H.A.D.E.
Age: 32
Species: Modified Human
Hair color: Mahogany
Eye color: Cinereal gray
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship status: Single
Family: N/A
Occupation: Spec ops agent, professional assassin, outlaw
Origin: Although much is speculated about Mr. Drake (even the name 'Drake' being worthless of trust, despite seemingly veracious), the man is a complete mystery. Arguably created by Dr. <<Classified>> at a laboratory, he shows no psychological traits of a mere laboratory rodent, even though reinforcing this thesis by rather violent means. He is a stable being, albeit entirely free of morals. Yet, it is clear his body was modified. A petite amount of peripheral nerve fibers render him a convenient pain toleration. He also boasts from an implanted ability of adsorbing the kinetic energy of any sort of attack, being able to convert it into regenerative properties, herculean strength or rudimentary energy bursts. His lack of morals, added with aforementioned special abilities and mastery of long-range weaponry makes him a fearsome killing machine. But do not allow yourself to be deceived, he is no scatter-minded individual. Beneath the rough outer shell is hidden a cunning mind willing to risk everything and anything to accomplish his goals. My advice? Proceed with extreme caution when nearby him.
Personality: A topic of my favorites. As if Mr. Drake didn't amaze me enough, his psyche is unique and it delights me to explore such marvelous subject, although never permitted a direct contact due to the perilous nature of the assassin. A debatable case of amnesia or brainwash without sequels forces him to assimilate the harrowing theory of being forged by the proficient, dexterous hands of a madman with some acquaintances at the vast world of science. He acquiesces to be a puppet for our agency and, nonetheless, acts as one even savvying he wouldn't need it. Such thoughts evolved, amalgamated with ire and fear, and delusions of being merely an expendable soldier surfaced. He has questioned many cutting-edge personnel about the existence of what he named, and I quote, 'Drake clones'. Those ideas float around his ill mind, effects oscillating from narrow discomfort to gargantuan levels or wrath and anguish. And, as expected, the only possible outcome of all this negative topics hovering over that poor devil's soul was predictable.
The scars struck him profoundly and heavily. The sight of a lonely, burdensome man caressing the trigger prior to endeavoring a suicide isn't joyful. And this is no rare sight. Drake has opted to believe the obnoxious creation without pondering, seemingly a ridiculously imbecilic choice, but he prefers to spare himself the sore of acknowledging what sort of beast he was before, otherwise the stage of his depression would be worst. By blindly following the atramentous track he encounters himself encompassed by, Drake might actually survive and arise from ashes. Perhaps leave his mark in history as he mostly mumbles about, always putting everything at stake to find some glory to fill the elephantine gap inside him. I reckon he acts as a veracious monster, but he is a good man, I can sense it. Perhaps the ignorance may be a blessing rather than a curse. Perhaps he can find his path back to light. But one can only hope.
My advice? Treat him as you treat fellow workers. No special pleasantries makes him feel as orthodox as anyone. And never, under any circumstance, ask about his past nor disagree of any origin story he tells. The results might be quite... violent and dreadful.
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