Personal Information
Character Name: Harm
Alter Ego: None
Pronounciation: Harm
Aliases / Nicknames: Clay Wilson (Alternate Reality), Malthus
Age: 30
Place of Birth: Old Detroit
Living Relatives: None
Personal Colors: Black and Crimson
Powers, Skills and/ore Abilities
Core Origins: Occult, Demonic
Combat Role: Melee
Combat Powers, Skills and/or Abilities: Super Strength, Shadow Manipulation, Fire Manipulation
Other Powers, Skills and/or Abilities: Dimensional travel
Any Weaknesses: Two souls that are interwoven, one mortal the other demonic. Can be harmed by what effects spirits.
Physical Synopsis
Height: 7’6”
Weight: 400 lbs.
Build: Athletic
Eye Colour: Amber
Hair Colour: Black
Race/Ethnicity: Caucasian/Greek, Demon
Mental Synopsis
Personality Keywords: Brash, Headstrong and Malevolent
Overall Personality: Not much of a leader when it comes down to it, Harm makes a good Lieutenant in the army of evil. He can drive the lesser soldiers into a battle with good outcome.
Likes: Hurting others to better himself.
Dislikes: His Alternate reality version, puppies and kittens.
This is the start of my idea for my villain...much in the vein of "What If..."
Well I’m gonna go ahead and assume that most of you know who Harmakhet is and if not you can read all of his fancy-schmancy do-goodery here in his words and others. If you didn’t know by now I’m what you would call “from an alternate universe.” My name was Clay Gibson at one point and I too was born without the sight in one of my eyes but I didn’t let it get me down like he did.
I took up the mantle of “Freak” and ran with it. When I was young I’d use my eye as a way to scare the girls and as I got older I used my strength as a way to gain respect from all. Yeah I guess I’d be considered a bully but heck it’s a dog eat dog multi-verse out there. Might as well be the biggest dog in the bunch. It wasn’t until a few years after I dropped out of high school that things started getting interesting though.
I had been working for the local drug cartel as hired muscle and things were going ok. The higher ups were looking to give me my own area to “prove myself” and I had dreams of being able to grow within the business. The area was a small little block in what they call “Voodoo Heights” The former muscle of it had suddenly disappeared a few weeks back and the bosses assumed he’d run off.
I started going around and doing my version of a meet and greet. I would meet the shop owners and their money would greet my pockets. One of my underlings, Greg “Shmeg” Harcutt had been working in this area for a few months with the old leader and started looking nervous when we got near an old occult shop in the center of my area. He pulled me aside before we went in and tried to talk me out of roughing up the owner. After slapping him around a bit for thinking he knew better than me I managed to get the info out of him.
Apparently the owner, Haborym, was a magician of some renown who’d disappeared off the face of the earth then reappeared some time later in life and opening this occult shop. The last time anyone had seen the former muscle of the area he had been in here and had roughed up this old man. Greg seemed to think that these events were linked so I smacked him one more time and decided to play it a bit safer on this one as you never know what magic will bring ya.
I walked in and found the old man sitting in what looked like a throne of sorts in the middle of the strangest collection of occult and magical paraphernalia I’d ever seen. There were things hanging on the walls that didn’t even look like they were from earth. I introduced myself as the local “protector of the innocent” and got a raspy chuckle from the scrawny man. He listened intently as I made my case for him using my “services” and informed him I would return in a few days to see if he might have need of me. He smiled a devilish grin and we left.
Over the next few days I just did my job roughing up people for money and a few times “taking out” those who had incurred the wrath of the bosses. Every time I was doing this though I’d feel something strange in my mind, something evil. I’d catch glimpses of a figure out of the corner of my good eye but by the time I’d turn my head it’d be gone.
There was this particular mark that I had to torture for info named Jimmy “The Frog”. He’d been part of the organization for a few years and had suddenly gone into hiding around the same time that a shipment of guns had disappeared. I tracked him down and the boys and I went to work on him. Everything from blades to car batteries were used to get what we needed from him. Just as I was slowly gutting him I caught a glimpse of the figure again. This time I managed to see his face just long enough to know that it was the old man from the occult shop, Haborym.
I finished up the task at hand and headed back to the shop to inquire why this man had been spying on me. When I burst through the door I didn’t see him anywhere. I knocked over a few of the odd items in the shop looking for a door or a backroom. Towards the back I located a set of stairs that headed down and prepped myself for a bit of a tussle.
The door at the bottom was cracked open just enough for me to see some light coming in from the other side. I opted for the more stealthy approach to this situation. Opening the door slowly I saw a figure on the other side of the room with its back to me. Slowly creeping across I was almost in arms reach when suddenly I couldn’t move.
A raspy, evil laugh escaped from the form in front of me and he spoke.
“Clay…you are a man of great evil and strength. What you lack is direction.”
I tried to speak but whatever was holding me here wouldn’t let me talk.
“You find yourself at a crossroads in your pursuit of evil. On one hand I can give you the means to do what you do best, cause harm, even better or on the other, I can kill you where you stand.”
What the hell is this geezer talking about?
“You see I’m not the frail form you see in front of you. I am actually a demon that is looking for a host for one of my underlings.”
Host?
“I can hear your questions in your head. I seek a host for Malthus, a demonic warrior that works for me. He cannot exist in your world without this body to tie him to it. In exchange for your form he will grant you unspeakable power over darkness and evil.”
My other option is death? I guess I don’t have much choice then.
“Good way of looking at it. Be it known though that most do not survive the process of merging. Your predecessor had promise but his spirit was weak. This I don’t see within you.”
He started chanting and performing the ritual that would merge our two forms. The pain started right away and grew as time went on. The whole process apparently took a few days but to me it seemed like an eternity. It started with me reliving Malthus’ memories and “life” and seeing all of the suffering and pain he had caused. This didn’t really bother me much as my life had been similar on its own level. I accepted the suffering and pain knowing it would make me stronger. The evil coursed through my soul and became part of me. Malthus and I were one. I changed a bit physically but mentally and spiritually I was a new man…or should I say God.
I dropped the archaic name of Malthus and the human name of Clay. Now I’m known only as Harm. As for what brought me to your world...we'll save that story for another day.
Subject: Harm- Alternate Reality Villain 