Legends - Gallivanter OC

Role: Gallivanter

Full name: Jude Matin Benedict Grieveson

Alias: Dwale

Abilities: Can open portals with his hands.

Age: 50

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bi

Faceclaim: Martin Freeman

Backstory: He was a teen super hero, in the city where he was born he'd do whatever it took to fight. Made quite a name for himself, but he wasn't the only one.
Her name was Vixen. That's the name he learnt to love. An 18 year old girl, only a year younger than him, that wore a neon suit, clearly homemade, and a matching mask, that covered just her eyes. She was beautiful, and strong, and amazing. He knew at once that he was in love with her.
A strong female vigilante wasn't common in the 80s, especially as the role of the city's designated crime fighter was already taken by the Dwale himself. The public weren't a fan, not at all, but things began to change.
That woman. She was always one step ahead of him... and he remembers so clearly the first time they spoke.
It was July 25th, 1987. Dwale was patrolling the streets, listening to a nearby radio station blasting 'eye of the tiger' as loud as possible, when suddenly the song ended. It changed to report a hostage situation in the bank only two blocks from him, which had commenced just 30 minutes ago. The police were already on the scene.
Immediately, Dwale opened a portal, arriving at the bank, ready to help! But... he saw a group of men in handcuffs being escorted out, and strolling out of the bank... there she was. Vixen. Her feet hovering a few centimetres off the group and he felt his heart hammering against his chest as he approached.
"So when are you going to let me have the spotlight again, Vixen?" He asked her, in the smoothest voice he could manage.
"When you deserve it." She responded, causing Dwale to blink. Harsh. Kinda rude. He was doing his best. It was clear Vixen didn't like him, but he wasn't giving up too easily.
It took him about 6 years, but he got there. Standing on the roof of an old apartment building, watching Freya (as he soon learnt her to be named) as she swung her legs over the edge, not a care in the world.
He was 25, and still at it, still fighting crime without a single fear. But this... this required all the bravery he had. The small blank box quivered in his hand, a soft silver ring inside, decorated sparingly with jewels. Vigilantes weren't exactly paid, so he scraped together what he could.
Long story short... she said yes. They weren't married within the year, and made their identities known to the world, sick of keeping secrets... ready to live a normal life.
Biggest mistake he'd ever made.
1995, August. They'd been happily married for a year, fighting crime and saving lives... together. That was one of the worse days of his life.
Freya was pregnant. They were starting a family. Young, but mature. They were ready. And they were so so in love.
But they had enemies, and it all happened so fast.
Returning from the garden with his hands covered in mud, and some dirt on his clothes, he cane back to the nursery his wife was decorating, but rather than finding a newly painted, baby blue room... he found red. Splattered and smeared and dripping. And there he found his wife, or what was left of her. A knife in her stomach, practically inside out. Dead.
No note. No explanation. Nothing. Not a single sign of who killed her. Just pain. His life destroyed in a single moment... and he crumbled. Sobbing, crying over her body for hours, unable to move, unable to speak.
They never found the killer... but he never stopped looking.
He gave it up... being a hero. 2 years later and he was still seeing her in his dreams, and his nightmares. He never wanted to open the nursery door ever again. He never wanted to be in that house again. Not without her.
So he retired, travelling... and never looking back.

Personality:
He's a dad, he was born to be a father, from the humour to the maternal instincts, he wanted nothing more than children of his own to raise and care for. He's caring, and sweet, and will take that precious time to make everything right. No rush, just calm, and organised, and right.
He's sad. On the inside, he's overcome with misery and despair, lacking any kind of joy but he didn't want anyone to end up like him. He does what he can, helping, offering advice, but he can't do the same from himself. He's a lost cause.
He's clever, definitely very clever. Uses his powers well and is a quick thinker. Witty, even. But he worries, and behind that confident and the smile, you can never unsee the sadness in his eyes, it's always there.

Main weapon:
Just his hands, his powers, and of necessary, a small pistol.

Other:
He has asthma

Theme song: Eye of the tiger

Aesthetic




[ThatHawaiianPerson ]

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