The Commandant

The Commandant

New York, The Vanishing, The New Champions. He remembers all of them, but why? He Cradled his arm-Synthetic. Nice work, too. Not that he remembers where or why he got it. He often wondered if it had any secret features he didn't know about. Concealed blasters, Drone uplinks, holograms? To his knowledge, it didn't. It was just a nice prosthetic, didn't even afford him any extra strength.
Still, he tried to see if he could get anything concealed in the arm to activate, Just in case.
It was a comfort for him-His bad arm, He liked to think he lost it doing something meaningful. Something big and important-the kind of thing *someone* would remember, talk about.
He'd like to find that someone, someday.
Until then, he'd have to get by. and [Faction/team/character] let him do that. Let him take care of himself using his talents- and he was *very* talented at what he did
When he talked, People listened. Folks took him at his words. Like they had power
He smirked. Remembered an old saying: The Pen is mightier than the Sword. Seemed true enough, at least if he replaced the Pen with his words.
He didn't know where guns factored into that, though.
Which was why he carried one, just in case.

An amnesiac battlefield commander whose words hold power-perhaps more than they should

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Gender

Male

Eyes

Brown

Hair

Blonde

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Tanned

Height

6 ft 2

Weight

220lbs