Name: Roachman. (Sammy Bell, now refers to himself as roachman to anyone that is a perceived enemy or threat, eg, the heroes who tried to help him off the street)
Alias: "ROACHMAAAN!!!"
Gender: Roach-man.
Age: "Nearly 18!" (17)
Powers: Resilience of a cockroach! Can survive being thrown about alot, smashed, crushed, squashed, flattened, trodden, compacted and stepped on, unless you have massive feet as a power.
He is also very strong, dexterous and can cling to Walls and ceilings. He sports a set of large, yellow wings (ref. Tarantula hawk) and large, powerful mandibles, the wings can close down when they are not in use and have sharp edges which defend against what comes close while they are flapping. His main weakness is his long antennae, which pay for their sensory benefits. His wings and antennae can grow back if damaged. Like most insects, he loves sweet things and has a strong stomach.
His fighting style involves the use of his powerful legs and forearms, the latter of which feature four chitin horns. He fights literally like an insect, recklessly and mercilessly. He uses his weight to hit through a block and often aims for the torso and head. He dislikes extreme temperatures, but moreso heat, example, fire.
Appearance: 5ft, roughly, double the average weight of a man his size thanks to a thick chitin under his skin which creates a shock resistant frame. Large yellow wings and chitin horns on the forearms, matty, unkempt brown-grey hair at shoulder length. Darkened skin, with a greyish tint. Muscular, wiry frame with veiny arms and calves. Green blood.
His face is harsh, angular, with a flat nose and a smirk which says "I think I'm better than you.", he has irises that consume his eyes, and when, in light, create a tiny speck of a pupil and in the dark, a deep pool of black. His jawbones feature large mandibles capable of cutting through steel.
His clothing is a White, baggy shirt underneath a stained brown zipper jacket with rips at the back where his wings exit. He wears baggy jeans ripped at the knees and sagging to reveal some underwear. He years black, converse shoes, with torn heels and fronts and a blue and grey striped woollen beanie hat.
History: Sammy was born to the working class Bell family. They lived outside of the city. In school Roachman was a drama queen, a writer, poet and wannabe artiste! He wished to be a master artisan of mastering all arts! He was intelligent, fit and desperate to be admired by all! He joined all clubs and after-school activities he could! But despite the fact he was, indeed decent at all he did, it was found that he still failed to make friends because of his arrogance and desire for slaves as opposed to friends, or servants, rather.
This was all very well, but as life got tougher, as he moved to high school, Roachman found he was unable to handle the pressures of his extra curricular activities as well as his subjects, more subjects, more work, which means less time.
He grades fell, and with few qualifications he left school at 16 to work. With some saved cash and a reckless attitude, Roachman left home and lived in a flat for two months. He struggled to find a feasable job with his qualifications. "Six months experience to wash dishes? How does one make a start in this world!?" at the end of month 2, he was kicked out, and forced to live on the city streets by his own stubborn desire to support himself.
The harsh, cold nights and lack of food was difficult at first, but this is where Sammy became roachman, his stubborn will to live drove him to eat expired, rotten food, and somehow, win impossible fights with violent "heathens" of the streets. This was an odd, inhuman development....
Within several weeks, sammy had became ROACHMAN! A super-powered-hobo, basically! Fighting foes such as the OWNER OF THE CHINESE TAKE AWAY! Battling his swatting with a rolled up newspaper and yelling of ANGRY CHINESE WORDS! Roachman would flee, but he'd be back, Roaches always come back....
"Yuuuuuck, this paper tastes nasty....what's it say that makes it taste so bad? Is it the politics section of a newspaper? Oh? Hmmmm...."
Roachman read the invitiation, a toothy grin appearing across his face. Then he squins to read a partially chewed section of text.
"....Yadda, yadda yadda...it probably doesn't matter. I got the point....rise against the goody-goodies....this I like the sound of...."
Roachman stuffed the discarded invitation into the pocket of his jeans and continued to forage in the trashcan.
"And leftover ribs, too! This must be my lucky day!"
