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Profile: Devlin Lombardi 4-4Over the course of the years that passed, Devlin got involved in numerous pirate crews, from novice to notorious, and always made at least one true friend in each crew, though it was incredibly hard to break through his solemn barrier of silence and distance. The one that stuck out the most was Silas Kipher, a master lock pick and technical prodigy of his time, as well as the voice of reason to Devlin in numerous situations, though he never really cared about reason. If he hated the crew, then he would just up and leave, and if anyone got in his way, they ended up with a shattered jaw. Soon enough he became a loner bandit/assassin for hire/odd jobber. He's hunted down and searched for many of the former crew that has since disbanded, and has survived almost life threatening situations from the power bestowed upon him, Precognition, or seeing the future. In combat he can see his enemy's moves minutes before they make them, making him a master deflector and combatant, and natural or expl
Profile: Devlin Lombardi 3-4He woke up washed under a harbor, unable to move from the mix of pain, guilt and sorrow. He simply lay there for hours, maybe even days, until the poking of his back by a stick woke him from his catatonic state. He looked back to see an old man, dressed in a purple cloak, with a wide hat covering his face. He brought the wounded Devlin up to his feet, and helped him to his own dwelling, a small modest house on the rocks that connected to the beach. There the man tried to coax him out further from his near lifeless state, offering him some food and asking him. It came obvious that the man was disturbed, and silent for a reason, so the man tried a different approach. Instead of asking what was wrong, the old man brought it out of him using particular psychology, and eventually Devlin contacted through nods and shakes of the head. The man spoke, "The anger I feel radiating from you it's a yearning. You want revenge."
The most eerie nod came from Devlin's head, and the man told him th
Profile: Devlin Lombardi 2-4He woke up with a whipping back hand to the face, and soon enough learned that the ship his group destroyed was under control of the Knaves of Tidal, a tightly-interlaced group of notorious pirates from around the globe, each having influence that spread across countries. The ship carried the only copies of gold transference routes across the entire ocean, and many of them crumbled to ashes in the fire. They found the ring that Devlin's sister gave to him on his thirteenth birthday in the wreckage, and "asked" around for the owner, before finding him. After some beat down time, the leader of the Knaves, Captain Darvestian "The Harvestman" Fettel, brought Devlin to his feet so he may see how he was to repay them. What they brought out was a horror to Devlin beyond imagination.
Dropped plainly onto the floor before him was his little sister, only three months into her sixteenth year of life, covered in bruises, cuts, gashes, abrasions, bite marks, claw marks, and more. The Harvestman rev
Profile: Devlin Lombardi 1-4
Full Name: Devlin Lombardi
Aliases and Nicknames: Dev, The Devil, Criado Manos
Age: 22 Years Old
Golden Brown (Pre-Handing), Moonlight Gray (Post-Handing)
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Ethnicity: Mix of Caucasian and Hispanic
Physique: Skinny Build, 135 lbs, 5' 10"
Red Shirt, Black Vest, Brown Pants, Black and Red Boots, and Black Headband
Power or Weapons:
Precognition, Dual Alloy Gladius Swords, Four-Shot Single-Action Revolver
Relatives or Persons of Interest:
Angela Lombardi (Sister, Deceased), Silas Kipher (Best Friend, First Mate),
Kareda Revere (Companion, Confidant), The Knaves of Tidal (Prey), Rurik (Mentor)
History and Info:
Devlin wasn't the master student, nor was he the type to sit down and listen to the dribble of teachers, but he always fascinated with the life and times of illegality and piracy. He was often found getting involved in mischievous plans and pranks as a kid, and then into little skirmishes with the law as he got older. But as he di
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Nowhere was safe, no one can be trusted, nothing's has escaped it's touch. I could feel the inhuman presence practically licking my heels as I ran, like a cold, misty fire. I could feel myself running through halls, in some building that I couldn't recognize, and every where I turned, the doors around me would open, and faces of the decrepit unholy kind would appear to me. No matter how fast or long I ran, they'd always be ahead of me, just waiting to mortify my eyes with their horrible, unnatural forms. I leapt through what felt like a window, hearing and feeling the glass shattering, and landed on the ground with a hard smash. Even the dust from the force of my fall took ghostly form as it rose up into the air, and I got to my feet quickly. As I continued to run down a wraithlike alley, black with misty white outlines, I could hear the intelligible sounds of phantoms conversing behind me. I then felt the sharp grasp
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