TROUBLE AT YOUR FEET ― intro.

[magnus.]

u rock !

[color=transparent]YOU'RE AMAZING, DON'T FORGET IT <3

[color=transparent]u rock !

[align=center][abbr=claire made this!]―[/abbr] MAGNUS "MACE" BREKKER

[abbr=THIS TEXT BOX HAS HIDDEN SCROLLING]_____[/abbr]

//tw for gore mention and violence!

Magnus had to flee Bluestem. It was as easy as that―he ran. Like a coward. It wasn't the first time, of course. He always claimed that he had been tossed out of his first gang of bandits to become the tyrant of another, when in truth, he ran. Tail between his legs, he disappeared when the group was attacked, vanished in the middle of the fight, like he wasn't ever there in the first place. He was only young then, he didn't want people to believe he was weak. A scrawny, cowarding teenager would never make it in this new world.

Flintlock's attack on Bluestem nearly sent Magnus reeling from the group, but he stayed. He didn't want to flee when he had the perfect opportunity to show just how violent he claimed to be. The fight was over before he knew it, and it left him to stand in the middle of the bloodbath, with his bat, slowly dripping red. He himself was dripping, his other hand had been clinging to his side, where one of the spines of this corset had snapped, digging into his gut. He looked like he wanted to vomit where he stood. Pulling the spine out when he got to a quiet spot was like pulling a nail from a plank of wood. His teeth were grit and he wanted so badly to scream as he pulled it out. The tears did not stop.

Then, it was David. That monster. Magnus never liked him. He always seemed too nice. He was correct, albeit instead of someone else being the one David would snap on, it was Magnus. He left Bluestem with more than a bruised ego. He couldn't even remember what happened, only remembered flirting with a redhead, then turning around and seeing the giant man, looming over him. He could remember David's hands grabbing his shoulders and immediately tossing him to the ground so hard, Magnus couldn't see straight for a few days. He was positive he got a concussion with how hard David threw him to the ground. That wasn't the end of it, of course, because Magnus had to cradle his arm for a few weeks, knowing full well it was broken. He was lucky that David hadn't snapped it in half―Magnus was positive he could, if he so pleased.

Magnus had leaned against one of the buffalos at the gate upon arriving, panting and looking around. There was something about this place that Magnus felt he could really get himself into it. He noticed how people looked at him, and a thirst formed. Magnus wanted those curious, hesitant eyes to be filled with fear. He wanted to rule the whole park. Wanted to rule everyone. Broken arm and concussed brain or not, these people that would start to form a semi-circle around him would soon bow to him. That made him so hungry. So thirsty.

By now, Magnus had taken over the whole place, ruling it with an iron fist. His arm had been healed, although it still ached in certain ways. His head was long healed. Magnus rested against the Bison Head, lovingly named by Magnus―in his defense he was still concussed―and heaved a long, tired sigh. It had been a busy day, ordering people about and trying his best not to lose his patience with them. He headed towards the market to see what was on sale for today.

---

[spoiler=//tags — updated ;; 09/01/21]
general
> magnus brekker ;; mace
> male ;; he/him
> 26 ;; ages real time ;; august 24th
> vice world

physical
> physical health ;; 70%
> minor injuries ;; a few puncture wounds across torso from corset spines
> major injuries ;; concussion (recovering), broken arm (recovering), bad wound from corset spine (recovering).
> important things to note ;; covered in scars from fights and from metal corset spines breaking/popping from him bending too much/wearing corsets incorrectly ; worst of his scars is on his face across his left cheek

appearance
> long, brown hair pulled back in a tight bun ; very, very vibrant emerald green eyes ; built back and shoulders from swinging his bat, with a curved waist that dips into square hips ; small-ish hands ; 5'8" ; 230 lbs
> no body modifications
> wears a corset 90% of the time, which mostly are blue ; on special occassions wears a new corset he has ; black jeans ; combat boots
> no pocketed items ; carries a bat
> important things to note ;; n/a

personality
> very self-confident ; very impatient ; high ego ; has no sympathy ; aggressive ; sore temperament ; thinks highly of himself and lower towards others ; very apathetic
> no mental disabilities
> rolls shoulders often and checks for any displacement on his outfit

relationships
> missing parents
> no siblings
> pansexual
> no crushes

interaction/confrontation
> hard mentally | hard physically
> non-violent power play allowed
> will not attack/kill/maim/capture without asking the author
> do not kill/maim/capture without asking me (timothy)
> if you want to attack, use [color=red]this colour (red) and underline it

misc importance
> "this is him talking." ;; speech is bolded
> this is him thinking ;; thoughts are in italics
[/spoiler]