Post by Plymouth Weir on Aug 21, 2017 23:42:53 GMT -6
Plymouth Weir
HERO (DC)
PLAY BY
Michael Paré
RESIDENCE
Jersey City, Utica Street, across from Saint Peters Cemetery. An old garage that was once a Fire Hall.
FAME / INFAMY
New York & New Jersey, along the East Coast.
LIVELIHOOD
Technician / Security System Analyst for 'Arcane Security Systems'. Plays gigs on the side - stage name, 'Slate Blue'.
HERO (DC)
PLAY BY
Michael Paré
RESIDENCE
Jersey City, Utica Street, across from Saint Peters Cemetery. An old garage that was once a Fire Hall.
FAME / INFAMY
New York & New Jersey, along the East Coast.
LIVELIHOOD
Technician / Security System Analyst for 'Arcane Security Systems'. Plays gigs on the side - stage name, 'Slate Blue'.
CASKET
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
HEIGHT: 6 Foot 3 Inches | WEIGHT: 230 LBS | AGE: 33 YEARS |
NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY: Irish/Jewish American
PIGMENT: Pale | HAIR: Coal Black
EYES: Violet (Wears blue contacts or just sunglasses to conceal)
Plymouth is above average height and built like a heavy weight boxer on steroids. With his coal black hair, bright blue eyes (contacts) and pale skin, he’s an Irish stereotype; chiseled features and rigid square jaw casting a handsome silhouette. He usually dresses casually, jeans, boots, stylish shirt and leather jacket. If required, he’ll throw on a blazer, but he’s not one to dress-up, not if he can help it.
A large (black) circular sigil covers his chest and abdomen, this is the Grigori Sigil of Gadreel combined with other Enochian symbology. It wraps around his ribcage to connect with a smaller circular sigil on his back which is the Enochian symbol of 'Eternity'. Depending upon the stress of his actions the symbol may glow red, like the flickering embers of a dying fire, especially when he is summoning the power to perform a great feat of strength.
COSTUME & EQUIPMENT
Casket is known for his simple grey attire. A trench coat, boots and nondescript, rugged clothing, all void of colour. To obscure his identity he wears a mask over the lower portion of his face, leaving his vivid violet coloured eyes and dark hair exposed. He carries two Beretta’s, a Gurkha knife and a retractable metal whip.
The guns are customized. No serial numbers. No discerning markings. Untraceable.
CASKET'S WHIP - RELIC
The whip came with his original tattoo. On his right forearm is a spiralling tattoo which he can summon by will to materialize into his hand.
The whip is non-magnetic - comprised of an unknown glimmering metal and has a twenty-five foot range. It is tipped with three folding prongs that fold into a blade and when open act like a grappling hook, allowing him to use the whip as a climbing and swinging tool. The weapon is magically initiated by Plymouth's will. It can retract and extend. It flexes like bamboo allowing him to use it as a spring if it’s tip is embedded in a wall. It can become as a solid baton, a staff, a spear and if thrown or lost it dematerialized into a glowing serpentine form and rushes back to his arm where it can be summoned again. While extremely durable the whip can be destroyed by adamantium and vibranium weaponry. When destroyed it simply dematerializes and returns to it's 'tattoo state', but this is not instantaneous. It takes several minutes for the tattoo to reappear and only then can the weapon be summoned again. *THE WHIP CANNOT BE SUMMONED ON HOLY GROUND. It can be neutralized by simply placing the symbol of a cross over the tattoo (drawing it on in ink or using tape).
HEIGHT: 6 Foot 3 Inches | WEIGHT: 230 LBS | AGE: 33 YEARS |
NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY: Irish/Jewish American
PIGMENT: Pale | HAIR: Coal Black
EYES: Violet (Wears blue contacts or just sunglasses to conceal)
Plymouth is above average height and built like a heavy weight boxer on steroids. With his coal black hair, bright blue eyes (contacts) and pale skin, he’s an Irish stereotype; chiseled features and rigid square jaw casting a handsome silhouette. He usually dresses casually, jeans, boots, stylish shirt and leather jacket. If required, he’ll throw on a blazer, but he’s not one to dress-up, not if he can help it.
A large (black) circular sigil covers his chest and abdomen, this is the Grigori Sigil of Gadreel combined with other Enochian symbology. It wraps around his ribcage to connect with a smaller circular sigil on his back which is the Enochian symbol of 'Eternity'. Depending upon the stress of his actions the symbol may glow red, like the flickering embers of a dying fire, especially when he is summoning the power to perform a great feat of strength.
COSTUME & EQUIPMENT
Casket is known for his simple grey attire. A trench coat, boots and nondescript, rugged clothing, all void of colour. To obscure his identity he wears a mask over the lower portion of his face, leaving his vivid violet coloured eyes and dark hair exposed. He carries two Beretta’s, a Gurkha knife and a retractable metal whip.
The guns are customized. No serial numbers. No discerning markings. Untraceable.
CASKET'S WHIP - RELIC
The whip came with his original tattoo. On his right forearm is a spiralling tattoo which he can summon by will to materialize into his hand.
The whip is non-magnetic - comprised of an unknown glimmering metal and has a twenty-five foot range. It is tipped with three folding prongs that fold into a blade and when open act like a grappling hook, allowing him to use the whip as a climbing and swinging tool. The weapon is magically initiated by Plymouth's will. It can retract and extend. It flexes like bamboo allowing him to use it as a spring if it’s tip is embedded in a wall. It can become as a solid baton, a staff, a spear and if thrown or lost it dematerialized into a glowing serpentine form and rushes back to his arm where it can be summoned again. While extremely durable the whip can be destroyed by adamantium and vibranium weaponry. When destroyed it simply dematerializes and returns to it's 'tattoo state', but this is not instantaneous. It takes several minutes for the tattoo to reappear and only then can the weapon be summoned again. *THE WHIP CANNOT BE SUMMONED ON HOLY GROUND. It can be neutralized by simply placing the symbol of a cross over the tattoo (drawing it on in ink or using tape).
PERSONALITY
If one character trait stands out for Plymouth it’s being abrasive. He’s brutally honest, judgemental and often, single-minded. Relationships are liabilities so he keeps everyone at a distance, he rarely contacts his surviving family, keeping tabs on them from afar. Being a crime-fighter isn’t just a path he’s chosen, it’s what he is, and anyone that get’s close to him will be put at risk. He won’t take responsibility for that and so, he keeps to himself, forming only shallow connections with the people in his life.
Plymouth doesn’t take any shit and rarely walks away from a fight. He’s easy to bait and it’s this trait that often gets him in hot water but every so often he surprises people and himself by turning the other cheek, if only to beat the crap out of them later. Basically if he’s sure he’s right, Plymouth isn’t going to back down. The principle outweighs all other logic in his mind, which is why he’s so single-minded while on the hunt. His world is black and white, break the law and be judged. Murder and die, but he isn’t all doom and gloom. Plymouth enjoys his music and performing for a crowd. When he’s on stage nothing else in that moment seems to matter, he’s completely free and in that state that his other side become visible. The passionate side, the man of honour, the protector. Deep down, Plymouth’s a saviour, he want’s only to keep the world safe and safeguard the innocent, they do exist, and he knows who they are.
Raised Catholic, Plymouth goes to Sunday services and tries to pay respect to those values but it’s difficult when those rules were specifically made for ‘Men & Women’, while he is neither, he’s something else. This detachment further isolates him from the people he guards, rather than a person he’s a means to an end, and he accepts that.
If one character trait stands out for Plymouth it’s being abrasive. He’s brutally honest, judgemental and often, single-minded. Relationships are liabilities so he keeps everyone at a distance, he rarely contacts his surviving family, keeping tabs on them from afar. Being a crime-fighter isn’t just a path he’s chosen, it’s what he is, and anyone that get’s close to him will be put at risk. He won’t take responsibility for that and so, he keeps to himself, forming only shallow connections with the people in his life.
Plymouth doesn’t take any shit and rarely walks away from a fight. He’s easy to bait and it’s this trait that often gets him in hot water but every so often he surprises people and himself by turning the other cheek, if only to beat the crap out of them later. Basically if he’s sure he’s right, Plymouth isn’t going to back down. The principle outweighs all other logic in his mind, which is why he’s so single-minded while on the hunt. His world is black and white, break the law and be judged. Murder and die, but he isn’t all doom and gloom. Plymouth enjoys his music and performing for a crowd. When he’s on stage nothing else in that moment seems to matter, he’s completely free and in that state that his other side become visible. The passionate side, the man of honour, the protector. Deep down, Plymouth’s a saviour, he want’s only to keep the world safe and safeguard the innocent, they do exist, and he knows who they are.
Raised Catholic, Plymouth goes to Sunday services and tries to pay respect to those values but it’s difficult when those rules were specifically made for ‘Men & Women’, while he is neither, he’s something else. This detachment further isolates him from the people he guards, rather than a person he’s a means to an end, and he accepts that.
POWERS
SUPER-STRENGTH
Plymouth possesses a ‘rise to the occasion’ form of strength. It normally hovers around the 5 ton shoulder press category, formidable, but when required it can significantly increase to the point where he can hold a city bus (22 tons) above his head, perhaps more. His muscles actually grow in size and his weight increases by about thirty pounds. Basically he’s not super-strong unless he needs to be (for a righteous cause), and he can muster it in seconds. The key word is 'needed'. His strength will not increase to ensure a 'personal' victory to benefit 'himself', his strength arises in the defence of others and for just cause.
REGENERATION / ENHANCED HEALING FACTOR
Plymouth heals fast. This is not instantaneous like the ability possessed by Wolverine, but he can heal serious wounds and bone breaks that would take a normal person months in only a few days. Scrapes and bruises heal in a matter of hours and this factor increases when he's on holy ground. On hallowed ground flesh wounds will actually heal right before a person's eyes.
ENHANCED AGILITY, SPEED AND COORDINATION
He has enhanced coordination and heightened reflexes, making his combat responses far quicker than normal. He’s able to run at speeds approaching 60 KMPH, stride across fifty foot gaps and leap as high as twenty feet in the air.
ENHANCED SENSES / EMPATHIC SIXTH SENSE
Plymouth's senses are enhanced. His hearing has a greater range, his vision clearer and able to see at more frames per second, like a cat. His sense of smell is heightened, allowing him to be more attuned to those scents that may go unnoticed by normal Humans, but not as strong as the olfactory organs of an animal, he can't track people by scent, his sense is simply more acute. He can also see in the dark, able to summon the ability when required and able to 'shut it off' and return to seeing like a normal human. When this 'ability' is activated, his pupils grow in size and possess a reflective 'purple coloured' shine. His empathic abilities also act like a sixth sense as the pick up emotions and warn him of any hostility or fear that is related to himself.
FAR SIGHT
Plymouth can summon the power to see great distances and clearly hear what he is able to envision (a form of clairaudience). Subjects must be visible and in his direct line of sight to hear them, and when using the ability it can distract him from other things going on around him. This ability also allows him to see in total darkness when required.
HOLY GROUND
Plymouth's powers increase while standing on Holy Ground but he cannot cause harm to another being UNLESS they are intent on causing violence to another or attempting to destroy a hallowed item. There is no way he can break this law. While on Holy Ground, he also heals faster and is able to recuperate from any malady. He cannot kill on holy ground. If he deals a living creature (all except insects) a killing blow on hallowed ground of any kind, the damage is nullified and is redirected toward Plymouth, causing him great pain.
THE RESONANCE
Simply put, Plymouth senses ’SINS’. He feels the prominent sins on the surface of everyone around him but has to focus on a person to know them. Often these don’t amount to much, but occasionally he detects what could be classified as ‘demons’. These are murderers, unscrupulous thieves and people consumed with hate and contempt for the world around them. These people light-up like a beacon and Plymouth is compelled to pursue them; to bring them to justice, to educate, or exact upon them his own brand of justice, “Eye for eye, tooth for a tooth.” When confronted with such a person all Plymouth needs to do is touch them to know the basics of their crime(s).
PSYCHOMETRY / SENSITIVITY
Plymouth can feel and somewhat 'see' what has occurred in an area, he can also touch a person and get an idea of the sins (if any) that exist within them. He sees, through a semi-transparent window what they have done or what they are planning to do. Even if a telepath can block such a reading, Plymouth will still get an emotional impression. (On Holy Ground no telepath can blind a Watcher). Plymouth will know if a person truly feels regret for what they have done, and if they possess guilt, he must grant them forgiveness and spare their life. He will still deliver them to the law to serve time for their crime but he cannot harm them, unless they threaten him or another. He can also use the ability to envision the impressions of an area in which a traumatic event has occurred. The longer the impressions linger the less clarity he has.
CHORDS of the MESSENGER
Plymouth can, when necessary, speak to a person and they will hear the message in their native tongue. This does not allow him to understand their language, only relay a message so that they may understand it. The power of his vocal chords has also increased to the point that he can scream or rather ‘trumpet’ and the sound of his voice will resonate for several miles. There is no real other application to this ability other than he be very, very loud, that and his singing voice can only be described as ‘Angelic’.
INCANTATIONS (Spells he can perform at will)
Legerdemain - Plymouth can make small items disappear and reappear by dimensionally displacing them. He and other ‘magicians’ of course will know the locations which are only temporary. If he does not readily pull the object through another ‘window’ they reappear in a matter of minutes.
Cremation - When cast upon a corpse, the body is engulfed with intense blue flame, reducing it to ash within ten minutes.
SUPER-STRENGTH
Plymouth possesses a ‘rise to the occasion’ form of strength. It normally hovers around the 5 ton shoulder press category, formidable, but when required it can significantly increase to the point where he can hold a city bus (22 tons) above his head, perhaps more. His muscles actually grow in size and his weight increases by about thirty pounds. Basically he’s not super-strong unless he needs to be (for a righteous cause), and he can muster it in seconds. The key word is 'needed'. His strength will not increase to ensure a 'personal' victory to benefit 'himself', his strength arises in the defence of others and for just cause.
REGENERATION / ENHANCED HEALING FACTOR
Plymouth heals fast. This is not instantaneous like the ability possessed by Wolverine, but he can heal serious wounds and bone breaks that would take a normal person months in only a few days. Scrapes and bruises heal in a matter of hours and this factor increases when he's on holy ground. On hallowed ground flesh wounds will actually heal right before a person's eyes.
ENHANCED AGILITY, SPEED AND COORDINATION
He has enhanced coordination and heightened reflexes, making his combat responses far quicker than normal. He’s able to run at speeds approaching 60 KMPH, stride across fifty foot gaps and leap as high as twenty feet in the air.
ENHANCED SENSES / EMPATHIC SIXTH SENSE
Plymouth's senses are enhanced. His hearing has a greater range, his vision clearer and able to see at more frames per second, like a cat. His sense of smell is heightened, allowing him to be more attuned to those scents that may go unnoticed by normal Humans, but not as strong as the olfactory organs of an animal, he can't track people by scent, his sense is simply more acute. He can also see in the dark, able to summon the ability when required and able to 'shut it off' and return to seeing like a normal human. When this 'ability' is activated, his pupils grow in size and possess a reflective 'purple coloured' shine. His empathic abilities also act like a sixth sense as the pick up emotions and warn him of any hostility or fear that is related to himself.
FAR SIGHT
Plymouth can summon the power to see great distances and clearly hear what he is able to envision (a form of clairaudience). Subjects must be visible and in his direct line of sight to hear them, and when using the ability it can distract him from other things going on around him. This ability also allows him to see in total darkness when required.
HOLY GROUND
Plymouth's powers increase while standing on Holy Ground but he cannot cause harm to another being UNLESS they are intent on causing violence to another or attempting to destroy a hallowed item. There is no way he can break this law. While on Holy Ground, he also heals faster and is able to recuperate from any malady. He cannot kill on holy ground. If he deals a living creature (all except insects) a killing blow on hallowed ground of any kind, the damage is nullified and is redirected toward Plymouth, causing him great pain.
THE RESONANCE
Simply put, Plymouth senses ’SINS’. He feels the prominent sins on the surface of everyone around him but has to focus on a person to know them. Often these don’t amount to much, but occasionally he detects what could be classified as ‘demons’. These are murderers, unscrupulous thieves and people consumed with hate and contempt for the world around them. These people light-up like a beacon and Plymouth is compelled to pursue them; to bring them to justice, to educate, or exact upon them his own brand of justice, “Eye for eye, tooth for a tooth.” When confronted with such a person all Plymouth needs to do is touch them to know the basics of their crime(s).
PSYCHOMETRY / SENSITIVITY
Plymouth can feel and somewhat 'see' what has occurred in an area, he can also touch a person and get an idea of the sins (if any) that exist within them. He sees, through a semi-transparent window what they have done or what they are planning to do. Even if a telepath can block such a reading, Plymouth will still get an emotional impression. (On Holy Ground no telepath can blind a Watcher). Plymouth will know if a person truly feels regret for what they have done, and if they possess guilt, he must grant them forgiveness and spare their life. He will still deliver them to the law to serve time for their crime but he cannot harm them, unless they threaten him or another. He can also use the ability to envision the impressions of an area in which a traumatic event has occurred. The longer the impressions linger the less clarity he has.
CHORDS of the MESSENGER
Plymouth can, when necessary, speak to a person and they will hear the message in their native tongue. This does not allow him to understand their language, only relay a message so that they may understand it. The power of his vocal chords has also increased to the point that he can scream or rather ‘trumpet’ and the sound of his voice will resonate for several miles. There is no real other application to this ability other than he be very, very loud, that and his singing voice can only be described as ‘Angelic’.
INCANTATIONS (Spells he can perform at will)
Legerdemain - Plymouth can make small items disappear and reappear by dimensionally displacing them. He and other ‘magicians’ of course will know the locations which are only temporary. If he does not readily pull the object through another ‘window’ they reappear in a matter of minutes.
Cremation - When cast upon a corpse, the body is engulfed with intense blue flame, reducing it to ash within ten minutes.
QUIRKS • WEAKNESSES • FLAWS
Aside from personality flaws, Plymouth's only other major weakness is that he is bound to follow 'Old Testament Law' and must respect holy ground.
Aside from personality flaws, Plymouth's only other major weakness is that he is bound to follow 'Old Testament Law' and must respect holy ground.
SKILLS
Religion - He understands the ritual of both the Catholic and Jewish faiths.
Mechanics - (Car Repair)
Machinist - (Making custom parts)
Gunsmithing - (Customized Handguns)
Lock-picking
Electronics - (Alarm & Camera Systems)
Security Systems
Networking
Programming
Music - (Guitar & Vocals)
Law Enforcement
High Speed Driving
OCCULT/MAGIC - Plymouth possesses knowledge of the supernatural use of components, actions and words to control, conjure and manipulate magic.
Religion - He understands the ritual of both the Catholic and Jewish faiths.
Mechanics - (Car Repair)
Machinist - (Making custom parts)
Gunsmithing - (Customized Handguns)
Lock-picking
Electronics - (Alarm & Camera Systems)
Security Systems
Networking
Programming
Music - (Guitar & Vocals)
Law Enforcement
High Speed Driving
OCCULT/MAGIC - Plymouth possesses knowledge of the supernatural use of components, actions and words to control, conjure and manipulate magic.
ORIGIN STORY
Plymouth Slate Weir grew up in Brooklyn, and like most of the kids followed all the stories of the masked heroes of the day, pretending what it might be like to be a vigilante protecting the streets from criminals. As he grew older and his ideologies matured, Plymouth became more respectful of his father’s profession as a law enforcer. Cole Weir was a good cop. Strong, brave, a pillar of the community. He always knew just what to say, and what not to say.
Plymouth's father came from a traditionally Irish family. His 'Da' spoke Gaelic and taught it to him. His mother who was Jewish. Aside from learning Latin from their Priest, he also studied Hebrew. His parents both had the upmost respect for the religion of the other and Plymouth grew up emerged in both. Both were open-minded and believed in one's spirituality before the institution of religion. That the practice was just a vessel.
Growing up Plymouth was always in awe at just how much a person like his father was so humbled before God. His Da was a different person in Church. He seemed smaller and gentler. Outside, he was as hard as the streets he worked, Plymouth taking the brunt of those lessons. It wasn’t until his seventeenth year that he would realize just how much those lesson were meant to prepare him. That year his father was murdered, only he didn’t die in the line of duty, rather the duty of a vigilante. When the body of a local crime fighter was found and unmasked the community was shocked to learn that the hero known as Testament was none other than his father, Cole Weir. All his life he had kept his other life hidden from his family to protect them, then by the police ignorantly releasing his name, placed them all in danger from his arch-enemy, Nine Swords. His mother and sister were slaughtered in their home, while Plymouth was abducted and transported all the way to Ireland where he was taken to a sacred site.
Plymouth’s father received his powers through a ritual conducted by the last of an ancient order who called themselves the ‘Grigori’, who believed they were the emulations of the mysterious ‘Eighth Choir of Angels’ — The Watchers. It was believed by Nine Swords that if he sacrificed Plymouth upon the very altar that his father received his powers that they would pass to him, turned out he could not have been more wrong. The moment the villain plunged his sword into Plymouth’s heart and his blood struck the sacred stone, the truth that only the Weir blood line could bear a SIGIL OF THE GRIGORI became tragically apparent. Left for dead, murdered out of greed and hate, Plymouth would rise seven days later stronger than his father ever was, imprinted with THE SIGIL OF GADREEL, the mightiest of all the Watchers but the truth would remain concealed, the sigil etched into his skin, hidden.
His father's life long friend, Detective Ezra Waterstein became his guardian, and would become a Captain of Jersey City PD's East Precinct around the same time that Plymouth joined the force. His uncle Ezra did everything he could to dissuade the young man from following in his father's footsteps, but he was just as stubborn. Plymouth wanted to prove that he could do it right, and never cross the line that separated the law from vigilantism.
Plymouth was an exceptional officer, he did everything by the book and believed in putting the institution before his fellow officers. Sensibilities that would one day be tested when he caught wind of a group cops turning a blind eye to certain illegal activities in exchange for a percentage of the money. They knew they couldn't turn Plymouth, so they decided to set him up. They tried to make his murder look like a gang hit, but their betrayal awoke something that slept deep in his soul, and with every strike, he just grew stronger, and stronger. He left none of them alive, and after that night, Casket was born.
The first person he sought out was Nine Swords, and after he tracked down the aged super-villain, he made him pay dearly for the murder of his family. He left force and moved into the old Garage he inherited from his father that was once called the ‘Fire Station’. It was also, as he would later learn built on the foundation of an old church that burned down long ago. Hallowed Ground. Turned out, this was Testament’s headquarters, and so it would pass to the son. It would serve as his home and base of operations for his new line of work, ‘Arcane Security Systems’; a job that would provide him the flexibility necessary to support his crime-fighting life-style. He would become known as ‘Casket’ on the street. Merciless, the embodiment of Old Testament Justice, pursuing criminals beyond retribution he executes with extreme prejudice to appease the searing rage of vengeance that burns within him.
Aside from his Uncle Ezra Waterstein, the only other civilian that Plymouth has a relationship with is Detective Pricilla "Priss" Lane. Her investigation ended up crossing into Casket's next hunt and the two ended up working together to bring down a notorious crime boss. During the take down, however, Detective Lane was shot multiple times while saving his life. There was no way she would survive, but by pleading to the Grigori and offering to sacrifice his life for hers, she was granted a second chance at life and a hidden power that made her more resilient to damage. Priss ended up learning Casket's secret identity, and they stayed close. When ever she needs help on a case she contacts Casket and once in a while she and Plymouth will hang out, but as close as they get, he can't let go of Lorian.
A decent guitarist, with a powerful, smokey blues voice, Plymouth makes a little extra cash on the side playing a small circuit around New York and New Jersey, going by the stage name, “Slate Blue”. Aside from that he generally keeps to himself. He avoids other super-humans, desiring to work alone, but recently he has worked with the masked crime-fighter called ‘Boreal’. The two teamed up to take down a criminal syndicate involved in human trafficking down in Miami, a story that made head-lines around the world as one of the crime-bosses shared affiliations with US President Luthor and the infamous Kingpin of New York.
Plymouth Slate Weir grew up in Brooklyn, and like most of the kids followed all the stories of the masked heroes of the day, pretending what it might be like to be a vigilante protecting the streets from criminals. As he grew older and his ideologies matured, Plymouth became more respectful of his father’s profession as a law enforcer. Cole Weir was a good cop. Strong, brave, a pillar of the community. He always knew just what to say, and what not to say.
Plymouth's father came from a traditionally Irish family. His 'Da' spoke Gaelic and taught it to him. His mother who was Jewish. Aside from learning Latin from their Priest, he also studied Hebrew. His parents both had the upmost respect for the religion of the other and Plymouth grew up emerged in both. Both were open-minded and believed in one's spirituality before the institution of religion. That the practice was just a vessel.
Growing up Plymouth was always in awe at just how much a person like his father was so humbled before God. His Da was a different person in Church. He seemed smaller and gentler. Outside, he was as hard as the streets he worked, Plymouth taking the brunt of those lessons. It wasn’t until his seventeenth year that he would realize just how much those lesson were meant to prepare him. That year his father was murdered, only he didn’t die in the line of duty, rather the duty of a vigilante. When the body of a local crime fighter was found and unmasked the community was shocked to learn that the hero known as Testament was none other than his father, Cole Weir. All his life he had kept his other life hidden from his family to protect them, then by the police ignorantly releasing his name, placed them all in danger from his arch-enemy, Nine Swords. His mother and sister were slaughtered in their home, while Plymouth was abducted and transported all the way to Ireland where he was taken to a sacred site.
Plymouth’s father received his powers through a ritual conducted by the last of an ancient order who called themselves the ‘Grigori’, who believed they were the emulations of the mysterious ‘Eighth Choir of Angels’ — The Watchers. It was believed by Nine Swords that if he sacrificed Plymouth upon the very altar that his father received his powers that they would pass to him, turned out he could not have been more wrong. The moment the villain plunged his sword into Plymouth’s heart and his blood struck the sacred stone, the truth that only the Weir blood line could bear a SIGIL OF THE GRIGORI became tragically apparent. Left for dead, murdered out of greed and hate, Plymouth would rise seven days later stronger than his father ever was, imprinted with THE SIGIL OF GADREEL, the mightiest of all the Watchers but the truth would remain concealed, the sigil etched into his skin, hidden.
His father's life long friend, Detective Ezra Waterstein became his guardian, and would become a Captain of Jersey City PD's East Precinct around the same time that Plymouth joined the force. His uncle Ezra did everything he could to dissuade the young man from following in his father's footsteps, but he was just as stubborn. Plymouth wanted to prove that he could do it right, and never cross the line that separated the law from vigilantism.
Plymouth was an exceptional officer, he did everything by the book and believed in putting the institution before his fellow officers. Sensibilities that would one day be tested when he caught wind of a group cops turning a blind eye to certain illegal activities in exchange for a percentage of the money. They knew they couldn't turn Plymouth, so they decided to set him up. They tried to make his murder look like a gang hit, but their betrayal awoke something that slept deep in his soul, and with every strike, he just grew stronger, and stronger. He left none of them alive, and after that night, Casket was born.
The first person he sought out was Nine Swords, and after he tracked down the aged super-villain, he made him pay dearly for the murder of his family. He left force and moved into the old Garage he inherited from his father that was once called the ‘Fire Station’. It was also, as he would later learn built on the foundation of an old church that burned down long ago. Hallowed Ground. Turned out, this was Testament’s headquarters, and so it would pass to the son. It would serve as his home and base of operations for his new line of work, ‘Arcane Security Systems’; a job that would provide him the flexibility necessary to support his crime-fighting life-style. He would become known as ‘Casket’ on the street. Merciless, the embodiment of Old Testament Justice, pursuing criminals beyond retribution he executes with extreme prejudice to appease the searing rage of vengeance that burns within him.
Aside from his Uncle Ezra Waterstein, the only other civilian that Plymouth has a relationship with is Detective Pricilla "Priss" Lane. Her investigation ended up crossing into Casket's next hunt and the two ended up working together to bring down a notorious crime boss. During the take down, however, Detective Lane was shot multiple times while saving his life. There was no way she would survive, but by pleading to the Grigori and offering to sacrifice his life for hers, she was granted a second chance at life and a hidden power that made her more resilient to damage. Priss ended up learning Casket's secret identity, and they stayed close. When ever she needs help on a case she contacts Casket and once in a while she and Plymouth will hang out, but as close as they get, he can't let go of Lorian.
A decent guitarist, with a powerful, smokey blues voice, Plymouth makes a little extra cash on the side playing a small circuit around New York and New Jersey, going by the stage name, “Slate Blue”. Aside from that he generally keeps to himself. He avoids other super-humans, desiring to work alone, but recently he has worked with the masked crime-fighter called ‘Boreal’. The two teamed up to take down a criminal syndicate involved in human trafficking down in Miami, a story that made head-lines around the world as one of the crime-bosses shared affiliations with US President Luthor and the infamous Kingpin of New York.
SOCIAL RELATIONS
He's worked with Boreal and knows that he's Atticus Gale.
There are only two other people that are aware of his secret identity: retired police captain Ezra Waterstein, Jersey City PD, an old friend of his father's and Detective Pricilla "Priss" Lane, NYPD, plus her partner, Jessica Winters.
He's worked with Boreal and knows that he's Atticus Gale.
There are only two other people that are aware of his secret identity: retired police captain Ezra Waterstein, Jersey City PD, an old friend of his father's and Detective Pricilla "Priss" Lane, NYPD, plus her partner, Jessica Winters.
BACKGROUND
THE FIRE STATION GARAGE / CONVERTED DWELLING - Plymouth inherited this property from his father who had inherited it from his father. It was never worth much, but because they owned the land outright they always held onto to it. It’s located in Jersey City, on Utica Street, across from Saint Peters Cemetery. The old brick Fire House that had at one time been converted into a repair shop is hidden in small forested section that sprang up around it, and this is nestled in a corner of intersecting railways, in fact the whole area is surrounded by tracks. Between it and the cemetery is an old warehouse, a section of he uses as a storage and work area for his business, Arcane Security Systems. The entire property is surrounded by an eight foot electrified fence topped with razor wire, miniaturized camera’s, motion sensors, thermal sensors, all to showcase his skills and products (plus it offers great security). The original location of the Fire Station was St. Peter's Church which had burned down, meaning the ground is still hallowed.
Plymouth shares his dwelling with three male cats. A tabby named Poe, a grey called Lovecraft, and Stoker, a large black cat.
VEHICLES
Plymouth drives a 1972 Two Door 350 V8 Chevelle SS - Yellow with black racing stripes and black Interior. He also has a Nissan NV200 van for his business, black with his business logo in yellow on the side.
Plymouth owns a number of 4x4 trucks, most of them old military vehicles he buys cheap and fixes up. He strips off all the serial numbers and paints them a flat grey. He’ll use these for transport when he heads out as Casket and if he has to ditch them, they can’t be traced back to him. The trucks are stored under the warehouse. The warehouse used to store flammable materials, that tanks of which were stored in an underground chamber designed to contain the fire should an explosion ever occur. The area is accessible by a few stairways and a loading elevator large enough to lower the trucks. The elevator is disguised as an old painting area, the platform hidden beneath a rusted car that Plymouth winches into the air and out of the way when he wants to access it. Casket takes an alternative exit off the property to avoid suspicion, following a road that takes him along the tracks.
ARCANE SECURITY SYSTEMS - Plymouth has an office located in Hell's Kitchen, 50th Street West, between 10th and 11th avenues. He uses a form of artificial intelligence to manage his clients and when a face is required he hires a temporary employee to fill in for his fake assistant he created, called Sylvia Cortez. The owner of the company, a one, Marlon Jackson, is also fictitious. A made-up persona who lives in Hawaii and runs the business via video conferencing. Marlon is a graphic compilation, an artificially intelligent program portraying a Texan businessman. The program is very adaptable, but if someone is aware that they may be speaking with an AI they can trip it up with questions that only a sentient, self-aware being could respond to. Plymouth's role in the company is the technician.
THE FIRE STATION GARAGE / CONVERTED DWELLING - Plymouth inherited this property from his father who had inherited it from his father. It was never worth much, but because they owned the land outright they always held onto to it. It’s located in Jersey City, on Utica Street, across from Saint Peters Cemetery. The old brick Fire House that had at one time been converted into a repair shop is hidden in small forested section that sprang up around it, and this is nestled in a corner of intersecting railways, in fact the whole area is surrounded by tracks. Between it and the cemetery is an old warehouse, a section of he uses as a storage and work area for his business, Arcane Security Systems. The entire property is surrounded by an eight foot electrified fence topped with razor wire, miniaturized camera’s, motion sensors, thermal sensors, all to showcase his skills and products (plus it offers great security). The original location of the Fire Station was St. Peter's Church which had burned down, meaning the ground is still hallowed.
Plymouth shares his dwelling with three male cats. A tabby named Poe, a grey called Lovecraft, and Stoker, a large black cat.
VEHICLES
Plymouth drives a 1972 Two Door 350 V8 Chevelle SS - Yellow with black racing stripes and black Interior. He also has a Nissan NV200 van for his business, black with his business logo in yellow on the side.
Plymouth owns a number of 4x4 trucks, most of them old military vehicles he buys cheap and fixes up. He strips off all the serial numbers and paints them a flat grey. He’ll use these for transport when he heads out as Casket and if he has to ditch them, they can’t be traced back to him. The trucks are stored under the warehouse. The warehouse used to store flammable materials, that tanks of which were stored in an underground chamber designed to contain the fire should an explosion ever occur. The area is accessible by a few stairways and a loading elevator large enough to lower the trucks. The elevator is disguised as an old painting area, the platform hidden beneath a rusted car that Plymouth winches into the air and out of the way when he wants to access it. Casket takes an alternative exit off the property to avoid suspicion, following a road that takes him along the tracks.
ARCANE SECURITY SYSTEMS - Plymouth has an office located in Hell's Kitchen, 50th Street West, between 10th and 11th avenues. He uses a form of artificial intelligence to manage his clients and when a face is required he hires a temporary employee to fill in for his fake assistant he created, called Sylvia Cortez. The owner of the company, a one, Marlon Jackson, is also fictitious. A made-up persona who lives in Hawaii and runs the business via video conferencing. Marlon is a graphic compilation, an artificially intelligent program portraying a Texan businessman. The program is very adaptable, but if someone is aware that they may be speaking with an AI they can trip it up with questions that only a sentient, self-aware being could respond to. Plymouth's role in the company is the technician.
WRITING SAMPLE
“An Irishman walks into a pub, sits down and pulls a tiny grand piano out of his pocket and sets it on the bar. He then pulls out a smartly dressed little guy who sits down on a little bench and begins to play. ‘Where’d ya get that?’ the bartender asks. ‘I’ve a magic decanter; y’rub it, take a swig and y’get a wish.’ the Irishman answers. ‘Can I try it?’ requests the bartender. ‘Sure.’, the Irishman agrees, pulling out an old tarnished whisky decanter from his pocket and handing it to the bartender. The bartender gives it a rub, takes a swig of the whiskey and ‘puff’ the room fills up with ducks, flapping about and making a ruckus. ‘Hey! I didn’t wish for a million ducks!’ exclaims the bartender. The Irishman responds, ‘So, did ya think I wished for a ten-inch pianist?’”
A roar of laughter ensued and another round of drinks was bought to perpetuate the drunken merriment at the bar for at least a few hours more. Pushing a strand of thick black locks from his eye the evening bard tossed back the last swig of his pint and happily accepted another. It had taken a few hours, could’ve taken more, but the crowd at the Pentacle and Cups had finally warmed up to the stranger. Acceptance was always a benefit when a person was seeking information, especially when that person was a cop. No need to let the cat-out-of-the-bag just yet, however, Plymouth preferred to work undercover.
The ring on his right hand clinked against the side of the fresh pint glass as he brought the ale to his lips. He was unaccustomed to the bobble but the charm he had received years ago from a Magus, no doubt, had become a necessity among magic types. It concealed his secrets, hid them from ’scrying eyes’. A much needed edge in a world of unpredictable abilities.
“Ne’er got yer name?” Requested ruby lips, shaded by thick, dark lashed scrutiny.
The woman bore an Irish accent and turning, the man beheld both bold an beautiful features partially hidden behind a thick wave of raven black hair not unlike his own.
“Plymouth.” He answered, using his real name. He had offered it freely several times over the course of the night but the curvy woman in black had only just arrived, though she would have had him believe otherwise.
“Never seen ya round here before.” She stated, placing a cigarette in the corner of her mouth, dark sparkling eyes studying the man’s features, memorizing the angular curves of his handsome visage.
“Never been.” He shrugged, quick to offer the lady a light.
A long pause ensued as she took in a deep drag. Bright tip of the cigarette dancing in the dark pools of her lingering gaze, slowly falling to the lighter in the man’s hand. The picture of the casket upon it familiar, but he couldn’t presently place it.
“Yeah,” There was a wariness to her tone, but also a hint of interest that he could use, “I’d definitely ’ave remembered ya.”
Precisely why Plymouth hadn’t tried to bullshit her. Locals always knew a stray dog when they saw one. The good ‘ol boys at the bar had been trying to sniff him out since he’d dropped the matchbook in the tip jar. A black book, upon it, printed in gold, a pentacle behind a cup, the insignia of the Pentacles and Cups pub. The sign of a ‘buyer’ seeking product.
“Belfast.” Plymouth mentioned. The origin of her particular accent.
She was flattered but hardly impressed, muttering something in Gaelic under her breath, but then surprised to have the Irish-American respond appropriately in the perfect brogue of the old tongue.
“An Irishman walks into a pub, sits down and pulls a tiny grand piano out of his pocket and sets it on the bar. He then pulls out a smartly dressed little guy who sits down on a little bench and begins to play. ‘Where’d ya get that?’ the bartender asks. ‘I’ve a magic decanter; y’rub it, take a swig and y’get a wish.’ the Irishman answers. ‘Can I try it?’ requests the bartender. ‘Sure.’, the Irishman agrees, pulling out an old tarnished whisky decanter from his pocket and handing it to the bartender. The bartender gives it a rub, takes a swig of the whiskey and ‘puff’ the room fills up with ducks, flapping about and making a ruckus. ‘Hey! I didn’t wish for a million ducks!’ exclaims the bartender. The Irishman responds, ‘So, did ya think I wished for a ten-inch pianist?’”
A roar of laughter ensued and another round of drinks was bought to perpetuate the drunken merriment at the bar for at least a few hours more. Pushing a strand of thick black locks from his eye the evening bard tossed back the last swig of his pint and happily accepted another. It had taken a few hours, could’ve taken more, but the crowd at the Pentacle and Cups had finally warmed up to the stranger. Acceptance was always a benefit when a person was seeking information, especially when that person was a cop. No need to let the cat-out-of-the-bag just yet, however, Plymouth preferred to work undercover.
The ring on his right hand clinked against the side of the fresh pint glass as he brought the ale to his lips. He was unaccustomed to the bobble but the charm he had received years ago from a Magus, no doubt, had become a necessity among magic types. It concealed his secrets, hid them from ’scrying eyes’. A much needed edge in a world of unpredictable abilities.
“Ne’er got yer name?” Requested ruby lips, shaded by thick, dark lashed scrutiny.
The woman bore an Irish accent and turning, the man beheld both bold an beautiful features partially hidden behind a thick wave of raven black hair not unlike his own.
“Plymouth.” He answered, using his real name. He had offered it freely several times over the course of the night but the curvy woman in black had only just arrived, though she would have had him believe otherwise.
“Never seen ya round here before.” She stated, placing a cigarette in the corner of her mouth, dark sparkling eyes studying the man’s features, memorizing the angular curves of his handsome visage.
“Never been.” He shrugged, quick to offer the lady a light.
A long pause ensued as she took in a deep drag. Bright tip of the cigarette dancing in the dark pools of her lingering gaze, slowly falling to the lighter in the man’s hand. The picture of the casket upon it familiar, but he couldn’t presently place it.
“Yeah,” There was a wariness to her tone, but also a hint of interest that he could use, “I’d definitely ’ave remembered ya.”
Precisely why Plymouth hadn’t tried to bullshit her. Locals always knew a stray dog when they saw one. The good ‘ol boys at the bar had been trying to sniff him out since he’d dropped the matchbook in the tip jar. A black book, upon it, printed in gold, a pentacle behind a cup, the insignia of the Pentacles and Cups pub. The sign of a ‘buyer’ seeking product.
“Belfast.” Plymouth mentioned. The origin of her particular accent.
She was flattered but hardly impressed, muttering something in Gaelic under her breath, but then surprised to have the Irish-American respond appropriately in the perfect brogue of the old tongue.
