Talon is a lengthy 6'2 at 178 lbs. He has average, brown, emo haircut, all in his face, and a thin build. He has a scar extending from his left shoulder to his lower back, reddish in color, oddly similar to his eyes. Talon could be considered hot, to some people. His condition leaves him with bright red eyes. Seventeen short years of age.
That's right, I'm a smexy boy.
Talon is eager to satisfy the hunger existing in his fifth limb. He won't manipulate or pretend to love you to get what he wants, but if he finds someone of either sex willing, he won't pass it up for the world. I also like whips and chains, as well as handy ropes, belts, and anything that begs for mor- I mean mercy.
He's usually a very nonchalant person, and bristles very rarely, preferring to stay calm and think it through. T talks to himself, quietly, because he organizes his thoughts and ideas better by word of mouth. As a result, he's also thought to be completely insane.
Yeah, I'm one of the crazies. Back off, before I use your balls to play ping pong.
Talon was born into a high family that had him seated near the head of the grand table, a pretty bobble head full of yes ma'ams and good manners. What happened that removed him from this privileged life was take from him. One night, he was a fourteen year old boy, dressing for a dinner party with Very Important People, and the next, it was a year later, dressed in rags with a wild scar on his back, and eyes that were a little darker than he remembered. T returned to his mansion, only to find that his parents were nothing like the stoic people he remembered, and they threw him out without shame. "Children! What a waste of time, money, and energy! What a terrible accident you turned out to be."
He took to the streets, streaming tears behind him, when he noticed something. Where were all the kids? Heck, why wasn't there even a ball out here in the street? There was no high pitched laughter, no squeals of delight. And the way people were looking at him from behind their shear curtains and blinds.
Someone grabbed Talon from behind, quelling his screams. For the next seven months, Talon was trapped in a cell, sold for the black market's profit. He lost his virginity, his innocence, and any stray forms of childhood vanished in that cell as well. He was released into the street when he bit a customer for the umpteenth time, and followed a lone child in the street until he found the Rebel HQ.
He's head of Torture, here with the rebels. Need information? Call him, and you'll get it soon.
There! All my secrets are out! Kill me for honesty!
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