Covenant

Miscellaneous Notes:

Birth Order: Orphan/ Unknown
Land of Origin: Jersey
Childhood Environment: Large City (Newark)
Social/Economic Background: Laborer/ Middle Class

Character Bio:

Alex’s first memory was when he was much younger, he hurt, there was something warm and sticky all over his face and his left arm was numb, but it also hurt and would barely move, as he looked above his at the roof of the car he noticed that there looked to be blood pooling there, there was a warm soothing yellow light and he felt as if he was made of cotton candy. Then noise rushed back to his ears and though there was a thumping noise in his ears, and a crackling noise. The warm soothing light started getting warmer, he realised he was hanging upside down and that the car was on fire, just as he started to panic the car door opened and an emergency services agent looked in, cut the seatbelt straps and pulled him clear, there was a quick rush and a thunderous boom and a flash of light. When he opened his eyes they stung from the light, he was strapped down, but as the panic started to rise he realised he was in hospital. A nurse handed him a cup and some tablets, but he didn’t want the tablets, he wanted his parents, and an image of them hanging from their seatbelts came to his mind and her already knew they were dead. That was the first night he cried himself to sleep.

After that it was foster homes, each, even though ok, were never quite what he was looking for so he started to apply himself to his schooling, knowing that was his best bet for changing his life.

Then in college, everything was starting to work out real well for him, he had a scholarship and was passing all his grades, but one day, after coming back to his dorm room he found an envelope underneath his pillow, and in it was a photo of his parents before he was born, and a note, and all the note said was

YOUR PARENTS WERE MURDERED

Café Rose 8pm

Initially he thought it was a joke by his roomie, Paul Roman, but Paul was back visiting his parents, Alex ummed and ahhed over going until he had barely any time left so he quickly washed and then caught a taxi, as Café Rose was in town proper. As they were driving along Alex started feeling nervous, but he was meeting this person in a public place, even if the weather was crap. Staring out the window at the lights streaking by, and yet again he felt a sense of panic as the truck slammed into the side of the Taxi, and everything flared the actinic white of bright headlights and Alex looked out the left side window to see a dump truck 2 metres away in full lockup.

Hospital again, this time his leg is in traction, and there are various tubes coming out from underneath bandages covering most of his body, and this time all of his body has that bone wearying ache, and mostly he feels thirsty and weak. The next couple of months is bed rest, with Paul bringing in notes from missed classes for him to look through and then a very tough regime of physical retraining that takes another 6 months, even though Paul tried to keep him up to date at school he wast just too unwell to finish his studies that year, which meant he was going to fail and lose the scholarship. The end of the year came around and even though he tried his hardest to catch up, he didn’t pass all his classes and lost the scholarship, but by this stage he was just angry at the truck driver, who had left the scene of the crime leaving a stolen truck burning with a badly destroyed taxi and him inside it, and the taxi driver had died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. All that he had left from that night was the photo of his parents, and this eventually drove him to start looking for details about what happened to his parents. Alex and Paul harassed the police many, many times and at first they were a little helpful but the police files were old and closed, so they mostly told them to ‘go home’ (not the actual words they used), especially when he started to say he thought it was murder, and even Paul started to get less enthusiastic about harassing the police however, during the last police visit Alex put in and Paul had stayed home studying for a test, Alex was starting to get agitated that the police wouldn’t (Alex thought it was definitely a case of wouldn’t rather than couldn’t) help he saw a smartly dressed man come in to the police station and flash a non-police badge and then get ushered into the records room, where he then emerged from half an hour later holding an old file, where he took it over to a photocopier and made copies of the files and returned the records, and then left with his own copy, as Alex approached the man to ask him how he managed to get in some cops came in and made some disparaging marks about if a policeman can’t get to detective he quits and becomes a private dick after going to dick school. Alex stopped as the man just laughs, as he’s walking out says ‘at least I have one’ and the cops just give him the finger.

Alex ran after him just to see him get in a taxi and head off into traffic. Deciding to do the same thing Alex flagged down a taxi and headed back to University. When he got back to his dorm he jumped online and yes indeed there were several places to get certification as a Private detective and the things you needed to have that would help. Alex saw what he needed and decided to change some classes. He was on a mission.

The next couple of years passed quietly as he studied law and forensic and a few other skills that come in handy like Business Basics and how to live with crippling debt, but after being accepted into PI school things started to look up again. Then one day Alex and Paul, who was still his roommate as between them they could afford rent and a bagel, decided to go to the museum

This started out being a fun day, except when they made it to the cowboys and Indians section, as they were joking around a group of armed men burst into the lobby and started shooting, people started screaming and trying to run and the alarms went off and it was all a confusing screaming mess. A family running for cover knocked over one of the displays and ancient artefacts went everywhere and an old colt and a bullet slid to just in front of him. Paul was pulling on his arm screaming “We have to get out of here” and Alex just knelt there staring at the gun, then one of the armed men came into the room and shouted for everybody to get out, and punctuated this with a few rounds of bullets shot into the roof. This worked to get everyone in a frenzy and Pauls grip on his arm slipped as he was shoved away by the flow of the crowd and careened into the guy with the guy, almost knocking him over. The guy with the gun swore loudly, pistol whipped Paul and turned the gun to shoot him. Alex’s attention was torn from the gun and back to Paul,  the gun swung into Pauls face and there was a gunshot, but it came from the gun in his hand, it was an old military revolver, and the end of the barrel was smoking, and there was a neat little hole in the armed mens left cheek, and the lower right side of his face was a mess. Blood and bone was sprayed across the wall and across Paul. Something felt right about this, the gun . . . the gun was, and then Paul noticed that everyone was looking at him. Paul stood up, his face pale white with bloody smears and looked at Alex and said “you’re one of them, you’re one of them you bastard”

Pauls brothers had been killed in a fight between super heroes and super villians, Alex reached out his hand and noticed it was different and he dropped the gun, which dropped to the floor silently. People started screaming again and running for the exits with renewed vigour. After a few stunned seconds Alex did the same.

Outside, after the madness of the museum Alex headed away, just like everyone else. He was feeling a little numb and wandered around aimlessly for a bit until he stopped in front of a store and saw reporters interviewing people from the museum, and one of them was Paul, who looked incredibly angry and from his comments, seemed to be blaming super heroes for what happened. Alex then caught a taxi back to their rooms, and noticed as soon as he entered that the room was a lot emptier than before, Paul had taken all his stuff. As they were still students there wasn;t that much of it but what the hell ?

Alex called and got no answer first, but then got a message telling him to F*%$k and die. Paul really didn’t like supers.

Feeling depressed Alex took a shower, and crawled into bed.

Bam Bam Bam

Alex suddenly woke up in a sweat, gunshots were ringing out and people were dying,

Bam Bam Bam

Except that it was a knock on the door, Alex groaned and went to answer it. There were 4 police and 2 detectives, who pushed the door open as soon as it was slightly ajar.

Over the next 4 hours they asked a lot of questions, often the same ones over and over again, until one of the detectives said that he needed to give a statement at the station, but it could wait until later today, and then as abruptly as they arrived, they left.

After making himself a coffee Alex sat back down and started having a breather, except there was something in the herb bush’s planter box in the window. Sighing he got up, hoping it wasn’t a rat, and looked.

It was what looked to be a late 1800’s military revolver, looking well used but also gleaming in the sunlight as if it had just been oiled.

W h a t    t h e    f a a r k

That was the pistol from the museum, Alex wasn’t sure how he knew but he knew, and the cops had been asking about its whereabouts. Alex distinctly remembered dropping it after shooting the guy (the cops gave hime Kudo’s for that, the guy was a bad apple indeed). Alex got fully dressed, chuckled at the thought at talking to the police in his boxers grabbed the gun, hid it in his backpack and headed downtown, first he would drop off the gun and then he would go give his statement to the police, but it didn’t work out that way. The museum was still open with some areas closed and it seemed busier then ever, people seemed to want to see the crime scenes,  but as soon as he walked through the doors an alarm went of and someone screamed “He’s got a gun” and then something power tackled him to the ground and he was cuffed and put in a waiting room. No matter how many times he said he was just return the gun because he didn’t know how it got to his room other than the cops must have planted it there. Then the real police turned up, arrested him and took him to jail, where he was processed and put in a holding cell. The food was crappy and he was alone in his cell, which he was thankful for, and even though the lights went out early, he stayed awake late into the night.

When he woke up he groaned and stretched, and when he opened his eyes groaned again “Wasn’t a dream dammit”

His eyes roamed around the room, and sitting on the basin sink with a ray of light making it gleam brightly was a revolver, looked to be late 1800’s military make. Alex went over and picked it up, it felt warm in his hands, he turned it over a few times and then immediately hid it in his pants. Then some clanging announced that guards were coming into this section and a guard did indeed come up to hic cell. He opened the door and said you are free  to go. Alex asked who had made his bail, but the guard just shrugged. Alex was taken out the lockup, the rest of his stuff was returned to him so he stuffed the pistol back into his backpack, a policeman came up to him with some paperwork and according to the paperwork Alex was being released as he was uninvolved except for the fact he had saved someone’s life. Also he overheard that the museum had been hit during the night while he was in jail, and there had been a big fire, as well as a firefight and there were ex-cop guards dead. A few of the cops congratulated him for injuring one of the scumbags and putting him in hospital so it would make it easier for the police to find the bad guys friends.

1pm had him dropped back at home by the police, his room had been thoroughly and obviously searched but was still neat.

After the excitement Alex realised that exams were coming, and without Paul to help it was going to be difficult as hell, but he only had to get through the next 4 weeks, so he put aside his curiosity about the weapon aside to finish this years study for exams, and did so. The pistol he hid in a shoebox under the bed, and then started studying like nothing else. Strangely enough he also received a letter about a successful job application at a law firm as a paperboy the next day, saying that he started on Monday as a paper gopher as well. Alex made a few calls and apparently just before he left Paul had sent in his application form. Alex eyes moistened as he remembered Paul was still not returning his calls, and Pauls parents had told him to leave them alone. These had been some strange days.

Then adventure hit him just a few weeks later…

He later met a lovable taxi driver named, Carl’s Jr Fuck You I’m Eating.