| "Whatever was here, bruddah, it be long gone now..."
| Player: @ScottyTheC
| Security Level:
| Personal Data
| Real Name:
|| Anton Burrows
| Known Aliases:
|| 190 lbs
| Eye Color:
| Hair Color:
| Biographical Data
|| Houngan Priest/Superhero
| Place of Birth:
|| Port Barre, Louisiana
| Base of Operations:
|| Paragon City, Rhode Island
| Marital Status:
| Known Relatives:
|| Pierremont Burrows (father, deceased), Marie Burrows (mother, deceased), Andre Burrows (brother, deceased)
| Known Powers
| Spirit-granted powers of sorcery, hexing, summoning, and communion with the dead
| Known Abilities
| No additional information available.
Anton Burrows is on a mission from God.
After spending his childhood years abusing the good faith of his neighbors to make money from their religion, Anton came to experience the true power of Voodoo on a hot summer night back in Louisiana. Terrified, and deeply in debt to the unkind spirits of the Voodoo pantheon, the Hexamancer goes where the voices tell him to go... as long as he serves the Loa, he gets to use their toys.
((Hexamancer is a character that I rolled up when I realised just how freaky and cool some of the mythoglogy around Voodoo could be. Spirits, possession, mysticism... Awesome. He's been a few things over time; dark/dark Brute, Demons Mastermind, etc, but these days he uses Dark Affinity to really fall into the role. Having the in-game ability to summon shades and possess his enemies just seems to sit really well with the concept.))
The Childhood Charlatan
Anton grew up in the town of Port Barre, Louisiana, son to Pierremont and Marie Burrows with his brother Andre. His family was poor, there's no denying that. Pierremont hadn't been able to work since a factory accident shortly after Anton's birth, and Marie had been left to scrape whatever money she could working at a bar in town.
However poor the Burrows family may have been in money, they were truly blessed with friends. The close neighborhood in which they lived had a long tradition of community and inter-reliance that was reinforced by a shared belief in the voodoo traditions of their families. When there was no food on the table, they would go "cupboard shopping" at one of their friends houses to make a meal. It wasn't a bad life, all told, and the boys and their mother were happy. It would be all too soon that this simple life would be brought to an end.
Pierremont Burrows was not happy. His inability to provide for his family had left him bitter and angry. They didn't care; in fact, his family has often told him that they loved him, that he was a good man... but none of that could silence the jibes of his "friends" in the bars of Port Barre who would taunt him relentlessly.
Pierremont had concocted a plan. His son, young Anton, was a lively child who loved his school plays and was always first to volunteer for anything in front of a crowd. Shortly after Antons 11th birthday, Pierremont conspired to use this to rip-off his neighbors.
The plan was a runaway success. Every weekend, Pierremont would wheel out Anton at congregations around the town. The local houngans (priests) would welcome the "Gifted child" to their places of worship; Anton was especially talented at faking the Hooded Dance; where he would caper around the crowd pretending to be possessed by a sacred spirit. He would lead the believers in prayer-songs, bless them and offer them talismans against sickness. It began to make the Burrows family a good amount of money.
Anton Burrows became a tourist draw. Even non-believers would pay to see this young boy, skull painted across his face in thick white paint, leading hundreds of grown adults in increasingly frenetic ceremonies. It came to be that if the voodoo faithful of Port Barre had a problem they would not call on their houngan; they would call on Anton Burrows.
The Thing In The House
After spending four years as the mascot of the local community, Anton was called upon one fateful night to the homestead of the Bastonnes; a family living in the bayou outside of Port Barre. A panicked telephone call, speaking of demons and a possession of the family's daughter.
After four years of playing the role of the believer, both Anton and Pierremont had become firm skeptics; as Pierremont had been fond of telling the family, "I ain't seen a thing that makes me believe that these people's problems be anythin' other than their own doin's. Ain't no demons here, boy. Jus' bumpkins jumpin' at shadows... but even bumpkins got wallets!"
They arrived at the homestead just before ten o'clock that evening. Pierremont shoved his son, now fifteen years old, from the car and gestured at the house. Anton knew the routine; he trudged off without another word. There was no answer when he knocked. No moement could be discerned through the dirty windows. It was as silent as a grave.
"Uh... papa?" he called back to the car. "Somethin's not right..." Pierremont's respose was loud and expletive-riddled.
"Getcha *&?%£! ass in dat house, boy!" he bawled. "Got a #("&%>@ing job ta do!"
Anton sighed. He turned back to the door... a cheap wooden thing, white paint flaking off to reveal soft grey wood underneath. He reached out a hand, and pushed the door... which creaked open, unlocked.
"Hello?" he called into the darkened hallway beyond. "It's, ah, Anton. De Burrows boy. I'm, ah, bringin' de blessin's of de spirits to ya, bruddahs an' sistas..."
He looked back once more towards the car. His father glared at him over the steering wheel, getting angrier by the minute. Anton steeled himself and stepped over the threshold. The house smelled of mildew and home-cooking, burnt roue and dust. Anton edged further, fumbling for a light switch. When he found one, it clicked on and off a few times, but produced no light. Broken.
"Typical." he grunted. Feeling a little braver, he pushed open another door and stepped into the main room of the house...
The front door slammed shut, the bolt falling into place.
The curtains drew shut.
Anton was frozen in place. His conscious brain had retreated, whimpering, to a distant corner of his skull. The last noise had been made by the spontaneous flare of flames in an old stone fireplace... but no flame that he'd ever seen had been black, nor cast a violet light out into the world.
Distantly, he could hear his father hollering, blasting the horn of their car, but it sounded to be so very far away... further than the five paces he'd come since entering this house. So very far away.
A girl was sat facing him. Upon a rickety stool, clad in a dirty white nightshift. He vaguely recognised her from his ritual performances... Mancy, or Marcy, or some such. The girl he'd been called to see. The possessed daughter. Young Miss Bastonne.
"Burrows." she smiled. "We're ta talk, you and we."
Her voice was not her own. Instead, it was deep, sepulchral. Laden with ages of dust and memory. Anton couldn't move. All his showmanship, all his flair, it had all fled in the face of primordial horror at the wrongness of it all.
"Wh... who...?" he stammered.
"Ya don't know?" she asked, chuckling quietly without any humour. "Ya don't know your ol' friends? Thought you'd know, bein' de expert. Bein' de Big Holy Man." the last words were shouted, practically roared at the top of a voice his father would have envied. It was the roaring of a lion in a cave.
"N-No... No!" he blurted.
"Oh, yes! Yes, boy!" Miss Bastonne stood from her stool, and in the shadows of the room around them, shapes moved, sinuous like snakes in ink. A whispering sounded all around, wordless. "You live in de big house, boy, you be mowin' de big lawn!"
The girl stepped right to Anton's face, looking up at him, staring dead into his eyes. Dead was right. Her eyes were black as a shark's, her hair hanging lank and damp against her face.
"Ya been usin' our name, Anton. Ya been doin' wrong. Way we figure things, you be owin' us, boy..."
Anton collapsed to his knees, a sob rising in his throat.
"I.. I didn't know... I'm sorr..."
"DON' YOU BE SAYIN' YOU'RE SORRY!" she roared in that awful voice. "That ship has sailed, boy." she turned away, facing the wall... but she left something behind. A shape. An outline of black mist. It grew, bulked out. Straightened. Became a man. Beyond, young Miss Bastonne collapsed to the carpet without a sound.
"From now on, boy... you on OUR time. You do OUR work." intoned the spirit-man. He solidified into a broad shouldered man in a black velvet suit. He turned to reveal his face, and Anton screamed for the first time. Where the face of a man should have been, there was instead the bone of a pale, polished skull.
"We done decided we got a good use for you, Anton. You gonna walk dis world, an' you gonna fix all dem things that be wrong in the eyes of Bon Dieu, the Good God. You gonna work off your debt to us, Anton Burrows!"
Anton recoiled, pressing himself against the wall.
"An' you ain't gonna know no death... ain't gonna know no peace... til you've paid back what you owe to us!" The skull-faced man leaned down, pressing his unearthly visage close to Anton's.
"You know we can make dis happen? Do you know who I am?"
"Yes!" Anton cried. "Yes, good God, good God..."
The suited man yelled over his crying.
"SAY IT!" he shouted. "SAY THE NAME!"
"Samedi!" howled Anton Burrows. "Baron Samedi!"
And the fire went out in the hearth.
After that fateful night, the spirits of the Loa had entered Anton's conscious mind, guiding him in the direction that would benefit them. Anton had no choice but to follow their orders, having been bound by Baron Samedi. The Loa granted Anton their powers, allowing him to fulfill the tasks they had planned for him in his near future. He trained diligently, enhancing his capabilities and being able to successfully possess enemies and summon spirits from the shadow realm. He used his newly gained black magic for the good of the Loa and the people in Port Barre, becoming a recognized Houngan Priest, a highly recognized position among the Voodoo community.
At the end of his teen years, Baron Samedi approached Anton in a dream. The Loa explained that better things awaited Anton in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. The next morning Anton packed his bags, pulled the money that remained in his bank account out, and bought a bus ride to the North Eastern state. When Anton reached Boston, he found a small place to stay on his own. He lived a simple life until his twentieth birthday when he read a newspaper article about a man by the name of Ignition who had saved several civilians that were caught in the middle of a firefight between local gangs and arrested the gang members. Baron Samedi whispered to Anton his future lay with that man, so Anton set out to find him. He took on the mantle of Hexamancer, wrapping a purple cloak around himself and covering himself in teal ritual runes.
Anton spent several nights stopping petty crimes with his black magic. Getting close to giving up his hunt for Ignition, the two met in an attempt to stop a gang shootout before it actually began. After stopping the event before it could cause any real damage, the two got acquainted. Ignition introduced himself as Michael Constantine, claiming to come from a city in Rhode Island called Paragon City. The hero offered Anton a chance to work with him, explaining that an extra hand to help wouldn't be a bad thing at all. Being pushed by the Loa to take the offer, Anton agreed.
A few months later, Anton moved in with Michael and his girlfriend Marissa Caldwell. Marissa's father, Chad Caldwell, lived down the street from the three. He came to their home occasionally to practice with Anton and Michael, furthering their capabilities. The two went out nightly, stopping petty crimes and making sure the city was safe. They both knew the risk of being a Hero in Boston, an example having been made out of a hero called The Gladiator months before Michael took up his mantle as Ignition, that heroes don't survive long. The Gladiator had lasted for three months before being cut into literal pieces. Months went by before Michael and Anton recognized a pattern in the crimes of the thugs and mobsters on the streets. Lowly thugs gaining access to high powered weapons and mobsters gaining high powered defenses.
Michael and Anton traced these patterns back to a company very well known in Boston, the Boston Armaments Corporation. It was owned by a man of the name Travis Brown. The two began investigating his company's background deals, revealing the company was controlling more than everyone had thought. No one believed them, though, aside from Marissa and Chad. The Boston Boys, as they had been named, attacked the companies that Travis owned, which included a Law Firm. They were marked as terrorists and began fighting more well trained mercenaries and security guards, alongside thugs. Their lives were on the line more now than ever before. They continued to fight as best they could, but the real danger came to fruition when the two came home one night to the front door ajar and a blood trail leading out of the house.
The World Burns Down
Anton and Michael put two and two together in a short amount of time and rushed into the house, finding the wreckage left behind. The two found Chad, their mentor, laying against a wall, a bullet hole revealed in his abdomen. He explained that Travis Brown's goons had come in and taken Marissa, and when he tried to stop them, he was shot himself. Travis was attempting to pull them from their hiding spot and put an end to their disruptions permanently. Chad finished his sentence before taking his final breath. Anton, having dealt with several departed beings in his time, performed a last right on his mentor, allowing his spirit free passage to its final resting place. The two gathered their equipment and headed off toward the Boston Armaments Corporation's main building, preparing themselves for what could possibly be the last night of their lives.
The troubles didn't begin at the corporations building, but in the streets. Several of Travis's goons confronted Ignition and Hexamancer, blocking their way to the corporate building. The thugs were all equipped with kevlar vests and weapons containing depleted uranium rounds. The streets quickly turned from a peaceful roadway to a war torn battleground. Flaming cars and rubble littered the streets. Anton and Michael left nothing undamaged in their path to vengeance, adding on top of the damage caused by the gang bangers. After half an hour, the two finally made it to their destination, but continued to find resistance from Travis's hired security. They knew time was ticking and they had to get to Marissa quickly. Anton volunteered to stay behind and fight off anyone who might chase Michael while he went forward.
Anton continued to fight, the Loa assisting him as his energy began to wane. What seemed like hours passed before Baron Samedi entered Anton's conscious mind. He explained to Anton that Marissa's spirit had left her body, and that it would be best to leave the building before it collapsed on him. Anton, taking the Loa's suggestion, left the Armaments building just as the top floor was engulfed in Michael's signature crimson and emerald flames. The top of the building scattered across the city as Anton made his way to a safe haven from the falling glass and concrete.
Weeks passed with Michael and Anton in silence. The city followed their motion, mourning their loss of a beloved friend and her father, their mentor. The pair organized their memorials and funerals. Anton did the best he could with allowing their spirits to pass on to their final resting place, supporting Michael the whole way. Anton turned 19 years old by this time, barely entering his own adult life. It was the same night of the Caldwell's funerals that Michael told Anton that he'll be going home in a few days. Anton was confused by this, thinking that Boston was Michael's home, but Michael explained that he was originally from Paragon City, Rhode Island, where he was a gang member. Anton was shocked by this, but agreed with his decision, thinking it best for him to do so.
So a few days later, Anton was left to live on his own, making a decent amount of money to live on his own, but not enough for a comfortable life. Still under the contract of the Loa, Anton continued his work fighting Travis Brown, whose criminal acts were shoved aside by his influence over the media and his expert lawyers. Still, Anton continued to fight the good fight, protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. Without Ignition to help him, Hexamancer was a lone target, easy enough for Travis Brown to eliminate. Anton proved himself to be a formidable foe, though, showing up in several news and magazine articles all across Massachusetts. His powers advanced as he continued to fight several new foes that entered Boston, coming from the Rogue Isles, that wanted to prove themselves the better super power.
As the years went by, Michael began showing up in the news, going under the new alias 'Blast Cycle.' Anton recognized him instantly, even with his style changed. Anton fought with the Loa to allow him to leave Boston, but they refused. Anton continued to fight petty crimes and super powered villains for several years, when finally Baron Samedi came to him in a dream. He explained to Anton that his purpose was no longer in Boston, but in Paragon City with Michael and with Michael's group known as The Challengers.
A Challenging Task