From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

If you've come to this page, it's either because you were randomly clicking on the "Random Page" feature, or because you have a particular interest in my character and wish to know more! The main content of this page is down below, my extended character history, which I assume is what you came here for. Should you feel I need to expand or add more information, feel free to contact me, I'm open to suggestions. Criticism and comments both positive or negative are welcome and encouraged, send a tell at my global handle and tell me what you think! And now without further ado, have a good read!

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Fuuinashi
Player: Global Handle @Fuuinashi
Origin:	Technology
Archetype:	Scrapper / Brute
Security Level:	30s
Personal Data
Real Name:	Jack
Known Aliases:	Fuuinashi
Species:	Human / Cyborg
Age:	Middle 20s / Aging stopped
Height:	5'9"
Weight:	Light
Eye Color:	Dark Green / Gray
Hair Color:	Brown
Biographical Data
Nationality:	American
Occupation:	Vigilante / Mercenary
Place of Birth:	New York
Base of Operations:	Paragon City / Rogue Isles
Marital Status:	Engaged
Known Relatives:	Orphaned at birth Lost any contacts with former loved ones
Known Powers
Exceptionally Heightened Reflexes Niten Ichi-Ryu Mastery
Known Abilities
Capacity to enhance muscles size at will Very proficient in sword fighting Extremely nimble and agile
Equipment
Body designed for combat Retribution and Vendetta - Dual Blades
No additional information available.

Character History

His heartbeat resonated in his ears, seeming to ripple through his mind. Something at his side emitted a perpetual beeping noise, accompanying the beatings of his heart. Painfully trying to pry his eyelids open, Jack caught a glimpse of bloody tools and devices, of scientists looking down at him, with blinding oval neon lights above their heads. His eyes closed, his consciousness drifting away once more.

A sharp clang of metal pieces hitting one another drew him out of his slumber once more, and he found that his eyelids were not as heavy anymore. Instinctively looking around him, Jack noted the insides of an operation room, scalpels and incisors being amongst the few objects he managed to recognize, the others seeming to be advanced surgical devices. A large window bay stood behind him, where he noticed men in coats observing him intently, discussing with each others. Raising his head, he attempted to look in front of him, but then noticed a body. A body that wasn't his. Taken by panic, He struggled against the bonds that held him to the table, noticing that the foreign limbs moved as he instructed, as if they had been grafted to him. The terror of this new realization overwhelming his senses, he fell into a coma once more.

Jack came to his senses. Something touched his arm, rather "the arm". The men had come into the room. He pretended to still be in slumber, listening to them talk of a weapon, of technological miracle, of an advanced cybernetic organism. Rage boiled within his soul, understanding bit by bit what they had done to him. He had been denied the death that should have claimed him, rather salvaged by these men and turned into a weapon. His arm sprung free of his bonds, catching at one of the men's throat, powerful fingers digging into the flesh until he felt no more resistance. His other arm freed itself, ripping at the plates of metal that held him pinned. Lifting his torso upright, he saw the amazement, and terror, in the men that had been observing him prior. As one of them searched within his jacket and drew a firearm, Jack swung the metal plate at the man's wrist, making him shoot aside into one of the carefully stacked tanks placed in the corner of the laboratory.

A large explosion burst, propelling Jack's limp body against the opposite wall, a fiery blaze spreading quickly throughout the room. The cyborg stood weakly, noticing the sole survivor of the explosion, a middle-aged man clutching a charred arm to his chest, wailing in agony. Walking over to him, Jack kneeled, his knee pressing firmly onto the man's throat, mindful of the pressure he applied as he wanted the man to talk. Without thinking, the natural question came to his mind, "Why me?" The question was without answer however, and so did he ask another, that seemed more likely to yield results, "What am I?" The man spoke without much coherence, mumbling of a newer project, of a human body and cybernetical technologies combined into a "High Mobility Assassination Weapon", and of "Project Fuuinashi".

Fuuinashi looked around once more. The flames danced across the laboratory, though he didn't feel the heat. He stood and thrust his heel down at the man's knees, shattering them one by one. Deafened by hatred, he bent and grabbed the man by his waist, lifting him up above his head and tossing him at the core of the fierce fire. Turning on his heels, the cyborg walked out, running through the maze-like corridors until the terrible shrieks coming from the operation room became mute to him. As he raced to an exit, he came face to face with the previous scientists, rolling before them a cartwheel on which laid two long blades, bearing the Project Fuuinashi insignia on their handles, as well as an assortment of needles. His reflexes were faster than their reaction, grabbing one by the collar and pinning him to the wall, his biceps seeming to expand as he willed, increasing his strength. "What are these for!?”, barked Fuuinashi before the young scientist he held could even start feeling fear. "T-They… They're the nanomachines meant to suppress your brain's activity a-and render you submissive!" Throwing him to the ground, Fuuinashi turned and grabbed hold of the two blades, seeing his reflection for the first time in them. His skin was pale, much like a corpse, his irises slightly grayed and looking lifeless. A glow of fury suddenly shone into those dead eyes, and the scientists immediately understood their fate.

His fingers tightening on the hilts, he swung the blades mercilessly, blood spraying against the walls and on the floor. His ability surprised him; his new body seemed to have the innate talent of using the weapons, his limbs literally weaving on their own as he tore through their flesh, the muscles that constituted his body adapting to the situation, enhancing in size and strength as they needed. He chased the few of them that fled and slaughtered them without afterthoughts, attempting again to escape the building, a trail of blood following his path. Fuuinashi managed to find a staircase and stampeded them down, reaching the ground floor and jumping through the nearest window, not stopping to look behind him as he sprinted through the nearest alley. He ran for what seemed like an eternity, the blades whisking drops of blood on the ground until they had been shook dry from the pacing, and yet he ran still. He eventually came to a small forest, he had fled civilization. Fuuinashi gradually slowed his pace until he came to a complete halt. Falling to one knee, a loud scream escaped his throat, followed by torrents of tears. He screamed again, louder, causing a disturbance in his surrounding as flocks of birds escaped through the foliage of the tall trees. His body shook with sobs, his breathing heavy and ragged. In this state, recollections of his former life came back to his memory, the circumstances surrounding his death becoming clear.

He was a plain man, living a casual, ordinary life without any great ambitions, only looking to find love and settle down, have a small family, and die happily, before his wife. Gone out one evening to do some grocery shopping, hoping to make a fine dinner for the woman whom he hoped to ask in marriage in the foreseeable future, his life had suddenly fallen apart unexpectedly. As he walked along the empty sidewalk thinking of his proposal, Jack was attacked, simply, for no reasons. He saw the wooden baseball bat emerge from the shadows and slam against his forehead, then start to beat him down as he lay on the pavement. Bathing in his own blood, his last sight had been the inside of a handgun's barrel, and a quick muzzle flash.

Taken by frenzy, he swung the blades at a tree, beating them as if possessed by madness until the trunk cracked and fell, hitting the ground soundly. He raised the weapons and thrust them down into the trunk, walking away slowly. Fuuinashi stopped three steps farther, and looked over his shoulder. Without knowing why, he returned to take back his swords, holding onto them tightly as he left again. He walked along highways for days, oblivious to the odd stares he got from all that drove by him, sheltered in a numb state, only walking and reminiscing his former life, his mind slowly picked to shreds by memories of his dead life, grief of his failure and cursed fate, hatred for the future and loved ones he had now forever lost. Without noticing it, he walked past a sign, "Welcome to Rhode Island".

At the end of his long wandering, all of his psyche had been consumed, burned by the hatred for all he had been forced to abandon, and the envy for those that could still claim what he should have enjoyed himself, a plain human life. He raised his eyes, noticing a woman embracing her lover at some city’s entrance. Drawing his blades, a hateful frown scarring his pale visage, Fuuinashi raised the weapons in the air, readying to strike her down, she who enjoyed what he couldn't. He growled and thrust the weapons down just as the woman turned, shrieking in terror. His arms stopped, the swords inches above her head. Looking into her eyes, he saw the horror and the fright he had instilled, and her lover's terrified gaze, paralyzed by fear. Fuuinashi simply stood there as the two ran away in terror, and slowly dropped his arms at his sides, his mind racing. He had been close to doing exactly what had been done unto him; strip an innocent person of her life, for no reason at all other than the hideous envy he felt. "I'm a monster", he murmured to himself. Fuuinashi observed the large walls surrounding the city he was at the entrance of, thinking. He would not take the life of the innocents he envied. He would slaughter all of those who did, use his murderous fate as a weapon to kill the likes of those who had imposed this cursed existence upon him in the first place. His nose wrinkling in another hateful frown, he stepped forward through the city gates, those that read "Welcome to Paragon City! Enjoy your stay!"