Character you have created: Jack Williams
Alias: The Eternal Hitman
Speech Color: Times New Roman, Bold, Black.
Character Alignment: Walking the Line
Identity: Known
Character Personality: Jack Williams is a cold-hearted bastard. He doesnt have a lot of compassion for people and he finds humanity to be self-destructive. He is completely aware that he is not perfect, nor does he ever have any intention to be perfect. The Eternal Hitman doesnt have a religious preference and he doesnt believe in fate either. All he knows is as long as hes being paid A LOT of money (he doesnt work for cheap!), he will kill whoever his client wants him to kill. He could be aligned with either a hero or a villain because of this.
Uniform/Costume: Jack wears a signature white trench coat and black Converse sneakers, no matter what else he wears. He likes to combine these items with black ripped-up muscle shirts, black tank tops, or on special occasions, he simply reveals his bare chest. He enjoys the feel of black leather pants or the comfort of ripped up cargo pants. There are many scars all over his body, the most severe ones being a bullet wound scar on his left pectoral and a puncture in between his neck and collar bone. The most peculiar elements that define him the most are his right artificial arm that can transform into a gun, his red eye contact, and his dyed silver hair.
Origin Info/Details: The past of the Eternal Hitman is mostly a mystery. What is known is the fact that he became a hitman when he was eighteen years old and hes been mastering the art of paid killing ever since. Jack is a natural-born Australian who paid his way to becoming a US citizen when he was twenty. His job is a dirty one, but somebody has to do it. A multi-millionaire and a very dangerous man, cults have attempted to assassinate him and have failed miserably. Because of the cults and their assassins, Jack has the tendency to be a little paranoid. He is rough around the edges, a tough son of a *****, and an ******* to boot.
Hero Type: Energy (Kinetic Ammunition - Gunarm / Magnetism - Artificial Arm)
Power Level: World Level
Powers/Weapons:
Transforming Gunarms - Thanks to Dr. Falk Baron and his technological skills, Jacks magnetic-manipulating artificial arm has the ability to transform into four different-leveled gunarms. Level 1 is The Accuracy; this unleashes rapid handgun bullet-sized shots. Level 2 is The Speedy; this unloads machine gun-speed shots. Level 3 is the Seeker; this allows him to shoot homing little explosive shells. Level 4 is The Eternal; this can cause chaotic kinetic damage that can extend up to a mile in range.
Razor Cards - His secondary weaponry consists of three metallic razor cards that are usually kept in his left trench coat pocket. Due to the magnetism power in his artificial arm, he can move the cards however he desires as long as his gunarm is NOT active. He uses this as a backup for ranged attacks.
Brawling - Hes not the best at close-quarters combat, but he does know how to defend himself well enough to survive. Hes gotten into several bar brawls before!
Attributes:
Strength Level: 90
Speed/Reaction Timing Level: Normal Human
Endurance at MAXIMUM Effort: 5
Agility: Normal Human
Intelligence: Average/Genius
Fighting Skill: Mastered
Resources: Average
Weaknesses:
Speed/Agility - One of Jacks ultimate weaknesses is his speed and agility. Sure, he can dish out a lot of damage and take a lot of hits, but he just cant run that fast and his reaction time is slow. He prefers jogs over sprints. Hes not really good when it comes to running marathons, though.
Close Quarters Combat - Despite the fact that Jack can fight with his fists or with melee weapons, hes not as skilled in close quarters as he is when he keeps his distance. The farther he is from the enemy, the more comfortable he feels. If the enemy closes in on him, they could get him into a lot of trouble!
Luck - Unfortunately, Jack has an unlucky streak with enemies. Trouble loves to find him everywhere he goes, even if hes on vacation. No rest for the wicked, one could assume.
Gunarm Charges - As powerful as his gunarm is, every time it runs out of energy, it transforms back into the artificial arm and requires time to charge. It can take up to 1-2 hours to be fully charged and once again become capable of unleashing damage. Until that happens, he has to rely on close range attacks-- not his forte.
Chaff - If a chaff grenade-- a grenade that interrupts electrical activities-- is used in Jacks range, it forces his gunarm to change back into the artificial arm, rendering his shots useless.
Supporting Characters: Terry (his Scottish terrier) and Falk Baron (his repairman/doctor)
List a few reasons why you've created that character: I created Jack Williams when I was still in high school. He became one of my favorite characters in my arsenal and I portrayed him in quite a few roleplaying adventures with my friends. Its been a long time since Ive written a project with him, so I figured Why not try the CAH RPG?
What can you bring to the RPG?: Its been a long time since Ive been apart of the CAH RPG. After taking some time away to seek out self-healing and therapy, I believe that I can come back and prove that I am an excellent creative writer and I can stay devoted. Im ready!
Do you know how to post pictures on the hype boards?: Yes, yes I can.
Zachary Quinto!

Sample Post:
"M-my husband... MY HUSBAND...!"
An elderly woman covered her mouth with her hands, shocked as she stared at the body of the man who was once her husband. Tears welled up in her eyes as she slowly approached the body. When she fell down on her knees, she shook her head and her tears streamed down her face. Her husband was really dead. There was not a single breath in his body. His throat had been sliced open and blood was still pooling around him. She couldn't believe that he was gone, but he was, and there was nothing she could do to bring him back to life.
Her wrinkles on her face were more expressive and her eyes were slowly reddening. Her head turned towards the other figure in the living room-- towards the Eternal Hitman, Jack Williams-- and she began to uncover her mouth. "...who... who paid you to do this...?"
Jack's reputation was very widely known within the United States. Even Hancock, Maine was aware of him and what he was capable of. To answer her, he shook his head and shrugged.
"Sorry lady, but I can't tell ya who my clients are. Your husband was a target and I was paid to kill him." In between his right artificial forefinger and middle finger, he held a single bloody razor card. This was probably the item responsible for killing the woman's husband.
"...w-why do you do this...? It can't just be for the money..." She was trying to plead with him, get anything out of the hitman.
"It's all about the money," he answered her stoically and placed his left hand in his white trench coat pocket.
"It was just business, nothin' personal. Some people are unlucky to become my targets and that's all there is to it. Shame you had to get out of the bathroom before I could escape."
Suddenly, she brought herself to stand, walked up to him and began to beat on his chest. "H-how dare you! I'll call the cops on you, boy! You're nothing but a DEVIL!"
Jack scoffed, removed his left hand from his trench coat pocket, and shoved her backwards. She tripped over her husband's corpse and sharply gasped. His blue and red discolored eyes narrowed in her direction.
"If you touch me again, I will make sure that you join your husband in heaven. Is that clear?"
The elderly woman covered her face with her hands and began to sob. She was merely heart broken from the discovery of her husband's dead body. She didn't dare say or do anything at the moment.
But Jack had no sympathy for her. All he did was turn away from her, shake his head, and make his way out the front door of the penthouse. The silver-haired Australian placed both hands in his pockets with his head held up high, eyes gazing towards the stars in the night sky. His left hand took out a packet of cigarettes and he drew one out in one swift movement. Placing the cigarette between his lips, his right artificial hand retrieved a jet black lighter and he sparked the tip of the cigarette with a flame.
"Sorry mother, but I love nicotine," he sighed as he took a long drag and closed his eyes. The night was no longer young; it was time to retire for the time being and get some rest.
Tomorrow was going to be another day of work and drinking.