Verdadera Destreza
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
| |
| Keeping the streets safe. | |
| Verdadera Destreza | |
| Player: @Zandock | |
| Origin: | Mutation |
|---|---|
| Archetype: | Brute |
| Security Level: | 50 |
| Personal Data | |
| Real Name: | Mateo Velazquez |
| Known Aliases: | Mat, Paco |
| Species: | Mutant |
| Age: | 21 |
| Height: | 6'1" |
| Weight: | 155 lbs |
| Eye Color: | Brown |
| Hair Color: | Black |
| Biographical Data | |
| Nationality: | Spanish |
| Occupation: | Vigilante |
| Place of Birth: | Port Oakes |
| Base of Operations: | Danza Del Sable, Spain |
| Marital Status: | Single |
| Known Relatives: | Ernesto Tejero (Uncle) |
| Known Powers | |
| Rapid healing, enhanced strength and agility | |
| Known Abilities | |
| Skilled fencer and gymnast. | |
| Equipment | |
| Rapier and parrying dagger. | |
| ' | |
Destreza is born out of my long standing desire to play a "good guy" in the Isles, and an idea about reinvisioning an old scrapper of mine. Squire Might was a BS/Regen back in the heyday of it's power, and the character was just starting to get developed when the great Regen nerfs of lore began to occur. He never really got off the ground. A discussion with my friend got me thinking it might be time to try him again as a hero working in the Isles, but I just couldn't seem to make it work without the sword. Well, if I couldn't have one sword, why not two? From there the idea just snowballed until Mateo was born. A little bit Batman, a little bit Zorro, and a dash of Don Quixote, hopefully without the madness.
Contents |
History
Childhood
Mateo Velazquez was born to a young, impoverished couple of Spanish immigrants. The family struggled just to get by, but the young boy never wanted for anything. He had loving parents who took care of him and made sure he had food and shelter no matter how meager the conditions may be. Life was hard, and simple, but he had hope as long as he could look to his father and mother.
When Mateo was eight years old, his home was ransacked by a few thugs hard up for their next score. They found the family in the small dining room, and didn't hesitate to fill them full of bullets. The boy lay with his head slammed against the table, watching the last moments of life drain from his parents. As he lay with the taste of copper in his mouth, waiting for Death, he realized something. Death wasn't coming. He was still alive, somehow. In fact, he wasn't hurt at all. He pushed up from the table and looked over his body. Though it was all covered with his own blood, he didn't have a scratch on him, a smattering of bullets that had once been in his body now resting on the ground.
Danza Del Sabre
With the demise of his parents, Mateo only knew of one other living relative, his mother's brother, Ernesto. The man lived in a small Spanish village, and every Christmas he would send Mateo some kind of hand made wooden curio. As far as Mat knew the man didn't even have a phone. He wrote his Uncle a letter, having no place to go but the streets until he could hopefully get a response.
A few weeks later Ernesto showed up in Port Oakes, meeting his nephew for the first time, and taking him back to Spain. Upon arrival at the rural home, Mateo would discover the impressive collection of blades and old texts Ernesto kept. It seemed the man was fascinated in the old ways of his country, and had chosen this remote place to build his home for that reason. Mateo remembered how easy those thugs came into his home and took everything that was important to him, how they did it without a thought. He needed to make sure no one could do that again.
Mateo asked his uncle to train him. To show him how to become a man who could protect those he cared about, who knew how to fight. It would still be a few years before Ernesto let his nephew touch a blade, however, insisting that the boy must study before he could even begin to try to master the true skill. Mat spent his days in the fields of his Uncle's farm, and his nights in the study, keeping his nose buried in old dusty books. He strengthened his mind and body to try to reach the point where his uncle would teach him what he really wanted to know.
As he grew, however, he began to find the wisdom in his Uncle's methods, and begin to search out knowledge with as much enthusiasm as he had for the fencing lessons he received. He studied the works of Agrippa and Carranza, honing his skills and his view of the world. He was enthralled by the stories of the heroes of old, living by the blade, fighting with honor. He decided that this was the way that he, too, should lead his life. He had been given a gift from God with his abilities, and he had to use them the right way.
Return to the Isles
Shortly after Mateo turned nineteen, Ernesto informed the boy that his training under him was done. The boy had become a man, and it was time for him to go out into the world and turn his knowledge into wisdom by way of experience. Mateo had grown accustomed to his way of life, and very fond of his uncle, but he did not hesitate. He knew what he had to do. He was on a boat back to the Isles within the week.
This was what he had been training for, the reason he spent countless hours practicing his footwork. He had to try to bring justice to this place, protect the downtrodden who were trampled upon in this home of the wicked. He knew what their suffering was, and he had the means to fight it, there really wasn't a choice in the matter.
Upon arrival in Port Oakes he would soon discover that his old home was not but charred remains, lost to some random act of villainy no doubt. The man was forced to take refuge underground, taking months to learn the structure of the tunnels and sewers beneath the cities. He used the catacombs as shelter, and a way to move hidden through the Isles, preying on those who would prey on the weak. It was by searching and mapping the sewers that he found what would become his home, a buried, abandoned ruin of some old temple, found through a maze of piping. With his own base of operations, he could begin his true work.
Personality
A man's got to do...
Mateo is an incredibly responsible and driven individual. Once he sets his mind on something he will make sure he accomplishes it. If something gets in his way, he will find a way to overcome it no matter how much time it takes, or how much effort he must expend. It is nearly impossible to discourage him, seeing any criticism or skepticism as just another barrier to be broken through. Life has always been an upward struggle, and he's convinced that it always will be. There's no use getting down about it, you have to persevere if you want to succeed.
Nothing without my word
A sense of honor was instilled into Mateo at a young age, both by his late father and his uncle. He believes that a good man should be honest in all his dealings, and try to hold others to the same standard. He doesn't make a promise lightly, and if he does you can trust him to keep it. He's loyal to a fault, though sometimes he tries too hard to do what he thinks is best for his friends, instead of what they want. You can always trust him to be there when you call, though, without hesitation and without question.
Dulcinea, my Lady Love!
Mateo is a hopeless romantic. He believes that someday he will find that damsel in distress who he can rescue, who he can take care of and give his heart to and live happily ever after. He has a pronounced sense of chivalry and finds it impossible to turn down a woman in need. He doesn't allow himself to look for love, however, despite the desire in his heart to find his own Rapunzel. He believes his mission of justice to be far too important to be able to spend time going off courting beautiful maidens. It's a quiet sadness that weighs on his heart, and he chides himself whenever he spends any time dwelling on it, telling himself he needs to stay focused. His romanticized views carry on to other facets of his life, giving him that sense of honor and duty.This article about a character is a stub -- a small, but growing, work in progress. If you're the creator of this character, why not consider expanding it?
