Marcus "Mark" Mearow

Name: Marcus "Mark" Mearow

Gender: Male

Age: 19

Personality: Reserved and quiet, mostly. He'll speak if spoken to, but will most of the time keep to himself. He's very observant, always looking around, checking his surroundings. The amount of times he looks over his shoulder can border on paranoia, but he's not that far gone. He has a strangely strong sense of loyalty, staying true to his words when he's by your side. He doesn't have a short fuse, very slow to anger; but, say the right string of words, or harm those he stands by, and he'll resort to force. The kind involving fists to faces. (He's kinda like a Rottweiler, friendly to those he trusts, suspicious of new people, and if you're a danger, he'll bite.... hard.)

Bio: Born in the city of Vale, to a near genius Mechanic and a respected Nurse, little Mark was the youngest of his siblings, the others being two brothers and a sister. Now, unlike his siblings, there was something that set Mark aside from his brothers and sister: He was born without arms. Aside from not having arms, Mark was just like any other kid, he was a baby, he grew, he aged.... But it wasn't long before he began to notice people treated him differently. People stared, watched; little kids pointed.... Needless to say, Mark didn't like it, and neither did his Father. Not wanting his son to be treated like a side show attraction, Mark's old man did the near impossible: He was going to make his son arms. Mark's Father worked day and night on the robotic appendages, finally completing the limbs on Mark's tenth birthday. From then on, Mark wore long sleeved shirts. He still thought people would stare, but at least he had arms, right?

The years went by, and Mark grew, making sure to upgrade his robotic arms whenever he could. If one were to think the boy would have had a stellar life.... They'd be wrong. No, he wasn't a good kid. His brothers turned him into something less than good. See, as he turned into an angry, teenage boy, his brothers capitalized on that, and turned him to their life style. Turned him to the "Tribe of the Sun". That's what they called themselves, their little 28 man Biker Club. It was a small organization, nothing too serious. The Club did mostly protection runs on illegal Dust deals, and sold parts for numerous weapons or vehicles. For a while, Mark was basically a common thug/criminal; but, like everything in this world, the Tribe had its beginnings, its golden years, and finally, its downfall. Torchwick's gang moved in, the Tribe broke down, and Mark.... Well, he cut and ran before he got himself killed. Wanting to put his worse days behind him, Mark found new life meaning in becoming a Huntsman. He started attending Signal Academy, and after his time there, he was accepted into Beacon Academy. Mark sold his motorbike his first year at Beacon, and cut ties with his brothers; though, he still stays in contact with his parents and sister.

Physical Appearance: Mark stands at the regular height of about 6'1. Because of the his rough life style, even before becoming a Student-Huntsman, Mark is built with a good amount of muscle, not too much, but just above average. Mark's facial appearance isn't too bad; firm jaw line, hard-set facial expression, a few scars on his cheek and chin. He's lightly tanned, got long-ish, combed back black hair, dark green eyes, and a bit of a mustache-beard thing going on. Now that he's older, Mark freely shows his robotic arms.

Clothing/Armor: Worn, black biker-boots with his dark blue jeans tucked into them. A simple brown belt to hold his pants up. White sleeveless shirt, and a sleeveless black button up shirt worn over that, with his thick, black leather vest worn over both. On his vest, there's a logo on the back. A picture of an orange, blazing sun, with a pistol and a sword crossing above it. Mark also wears grey armored knee pads, and a set of upper body armor (Upper-chest and upper-back).

Semblance: Mark is particularly good at controlling his vocal chords. With adequate aura control under his belt, Mark is able to channel his aura into his throat, and unleash louder than normal shouts and yells. Mark can also focus his voice into a shock-wave of sorts, with enough force to push back and disorientate his opponents. If they're close enough, the shock-wave has a chance to break ear drums, causing further pain/discomfort. The main draw back is that, with excessive use, Mark's throat will run dry, and he will be unable to speak and use his semblance effectively. Most amount of times he can use his semblance is 4 to 5 times, then his throat will begin to dry up.

Color Represented: Rusty-Orange and Black.

Fairy Tail Represented: Iron John

Emblem: Blazing sun with a pistol and sword crossed above it. (Sun, pistol, and sword are all Rusty-Orange)

Miscellaneous Info: Mark likes to tinker, whether it be a simple tool, or his own mechanical arms, he's always tinkering, looking to improve things. Also, he likes cake. Doesn't matter what kind.

Accepted <^^>