HOME | DD

Description
Buzzkill
Andrew Louis Seville, 31
  Andy Seville has a gambling problem. And an alcohol problem. And a sex addiction.
He'd been a slave to his vices since he was 13 years old. His father was a dock worker who loved 'playing the ponies'.
To his credit, his old man was on the money about 60 per cent of the time, but 60% was never enough.
  His dad died owing money to a loan shark. To that end, Andy Seville went to work for Joey Fazio as a leg-breaker on the day of his 19th birthday so that the mobster wouldn't take dad's debt out on his fragile mother and little sister.
Andy found out that he was very good at hurting people. The Fazio Organization introduced the young man to the Underworld and all its trappings. Food, booze, money, women, money, violence and even more money.
Andy, to his amazement found that he liked this world. He didn't feel like a 'villain', or a celebrity, but he felt at home. He had made actual friends, and, long after his father's debt was paid off, he continued on to be Joey Fazio's personal bodyguard. By the time he was 25, he was on a first name basis with major players in New York's underworld, high ranking state officials, celebrities both local and national, and even a Senator.
  He'd tried every drug known to man and a few that were so new that they weren't even illegal yet. He'd bedded women from 4 of the 7 continents and even a woman who claimed to be from the mystical lost continent of Atlantis.
Never one to rest on his reputation, Seville spent his free time constantly trying to improve himself via study and training. He always said that he wanted to be more than just another slab of dumb muscle, and while this was true, deep down, there was another reason. - Andy Seville was just smart enough to realize that the stress of his life and the boons it brought had cultivated within him a very addictive personality. The hedonistic excess of his lifestyle wasn't just the affectation of a local goombah trying to be high profile, he was very stressed and sinking into a cycle of addiction. Like his father, he was a gambler, though poker and blackjack were his games of choice, not horse races. He was very fond of alcohol and found himself drinking more and more to take the edge off watching Joey Fazio's back at all times, and oh, how he loved the warm, tender flesh of the opposite sex. It made him feel like he had a connection to someone in his lonely world. Mind you, he had actually made real friends in the Fazio organization, they were like brothers to him. "Bros", if you will. There was comraderie there, for sure, but, not a really close, tactile connection.
  It had been a few years since he'd seen, muchless hugged his mother, Sylvia and sister, Sheila, as he'd vowed to keep them separate and safe from his life of crime. He felt he was unlikely to find true love in his world of working girls, unfaithful wives and hangers-on, though sex, at least, was always available to provide a temporary connection to another human being.
  Joey tried to legitimately better himself and work through his problems.
He attended AA meetings for his alcoholism and triumphed for a solid 8 months despite being around alcohol almost constantly. Joey Fazio was the proverbial criminal with a heart of gold and like a father to him and did his best to help where he could. He introduced Andy to Kimberly, a dancer at one of the club Joey owned who had faced a few demons of her own and come out the other side. They were good for each other, and soon were engaged.
  Simultaneously, Joey Fazio was in talks with an organization that called itself "Tiburon White ", which, alongside its own low level criminal activities, provided black market biogenetic manipulations and enhancements to those able to pay the fee.
The criminal underworld was stepping into the 21st Century and involving itself in what was slowly but surely becoming a metahuman arms race.
  The police had metahuman officers on the force in a couple of the major cities. The government was in serious discussions on whether or not it was permissable by way of the Geneva Convention to induct metahumans into the armed forces. More and more superheroes were getting corporate sponsorship thanks to the level of celebrity they'd garnered on the West Coast, and every day more and more punk-ass streetgangs were recruiting metahuman superfreaks into their ranks to increase their threat levels and gain street cred.
  Joey Fazio was determined to not be left behind. He was in talks with representatives from Tiburon White to 'augment' some of his men, but the prices for their services were sky high... and he was rich!
  Andy sat in on many of the negotiations, of course, and saw what they had to offer. He was intrigued, but Joey had to think it over. It was 4 days later when, a rival criminal "businessman", Roland St. Francis, whom Fazio had 'relieved' of a large shipment of illegal explosive ammunition from overseas, decided to retaliate.
  It was at Fazio's favorite restaurant 'Garnet' (which Joey owned) that St. Francis' men took their shot while Joey and his entourage were having dinner. Automatic gunshots rang out, and the entire building was perforated in gunfire. Many of Joey's crew fell that day. Joey himself had his skull grazed by bullets and wound up in a coma.
  Andy Seville's bride to be, Kimberly Marlowe, was dead. Joey's top lieutenant, Anton Garibaldi, became the acting head of the organization. A testosterone poisoned meathead, Garibaldi wanted to retaliate immediately and brutally. He was "too tough" for a bodyguard, and never really liked Seville anyway, thus, dismissed him.
  Distraught over losing his surrogate father and the woman who had pulled him out of the depths of his own vices, Seville spiralled into a suicidal depression. Spending every morning at Fazio's bedside, and every night staring at a bottle of whiskey and a pile of pills trying to resist ingesting it all, Seville decided that what the St. Francis crew did could not go unpunished. He would avenge his loved ones, and if he died trying then all the better.
  He had an idea, but he needed money. He raided every component of Fazio's empire, piece by piece for all the money he could beg, borrow, embezzle or outright steal. He sold everything of value he'd amassed in a decade of being a criminal:
Watches, technology, jewelry that he never bothered to wear. His car, the fancy house that Joey Fazio set him up in... all of it.
  It took almost a solid 2 months, but, when he was ready, he'd gathered over 44 million dollars. When he was a kid, this kind of money seemed like enough to last him the rest of his life. Now, he only hoped it was enough to change his life.
  He got back in contact with Tiburon White's representatives and demanded to buy his way into enough superpowers to get revenge on St. Francis. Oddly, twisting one's DNA was not as quick, easy or as cheap as Andy surmised it would be. 44 million dollars was barely enough to replace the O-rings on the high-tech battle chassis that the executive representative, "Armory" was wearing. Still, there was a new process that the firm's biogeneticists had been working on, but hadn't perfected, to boost a person's natural bioelectricity to an elevated level. Andy didn't care, as long as it gave him an edge.
  Add to that a prototype battlesuit that was supposed to be a stealth suit - bend light around itself to become invisible, and absorb ambient noise to also be inaudible, but the suit was a failure. It did, however generate noise. A widespread sonic attack to be precise. With a few tweaks, it could be battle-ready in that capacity very easily. Tiburon White was willing to make all that happen for the 44 million dollars that Seville had with him.
  A deal was struck, and Andy submitted himself to biogen manipulation. It took 8 days of gruelling experiments, but in the end, Tiburon White was as good as its word.
  (In truth, as the stealth suit was a failure, they were going to destroy it and start over. The bioelectricity experiment was not really ready for human trials, but, a willing guinea pig volunteering to subject himself to experimentation, in secret, and PAY for the privilege, no-less, was a rare opportunity that couldn't be passed up. Tiburon White was effectively using him as an expendable test subject for possibly substandard processes and materials and raking I'm a 44 million dollar profit that could be put toward the research necessary to perfect the process and equipment.)
  The lab techs had piggybacked Andy's newly acquired bioenergy amplification powers onto the sonic/stealth suit in order to power it from within, which had an odd side effect. Not only did the suit project a vibratory sonic attack/concussion wave that could dent metal and practically disintegrate concrete, but the bioenergy itself was of a certain frequency that could be altered via the suit to produce sonic waves that caused instant nausea and/or blackouts and seizures from prolonged exposure. He could also vibrate his molecules fast enough to become intangible, and the technicians were even able to make the suit work in the fashion of its original intent - to bend light and sound around/through the suit and its wearer to become functionally invisible and inaudible.
Excited and exhilarated to have such power, Andy was adamant to leave immediately in order to track down and murder Roland St. Francis and as many of his other men as he could take down. The lab techs insisted on making more upgrades to the suit and running more tests, and for Andy to rest and heal, but he'd have none of it. One of the disappointed lab nerds made a remark about Andy being "a real buzzkill", and the newly metahuman assassin decided to take that as his name - It was all about reputation, after all. He wanted any of St. Francis's associates with their ears to the ground to know that 'BUZZKILL' was coming for him.

  It didn't take long for Buzzkill to reach his objectives. Anyone in the know who could put 2 and 2 together figured that St. Francis had put a hit on Fazio, and he wasn't really trying hard to hide it. He had 2 judges, 6 lawyers and at least a tenth of the cops in the city in his pocket. Hell, he was even blackmailing one of the city's superheroes, "Heracles", who was fooling around outside his marriage, to look the other way, and/or if necessary, protect him.
He was bulletproof, and he knew it. Unfortunately, St. Francis wasn't Buzzkill-proof.
  No one expected the madman in the red suit covered in pads that glowed with blue and yellow energies to simply hop out of a double-parked van in front of the Presley Hotel where St. Francis operated and blast his way in. No one thought he'd make it all the way to the 32nd floor, shredding gun-toting mobsters left and right ever step of the way. Buzzkill himself, had he been cognizant enough to give it thought, didn't know that the suit he was wearing would be able to deflect flying bullets fired from afar, and liquefy the ones fired from close range on a molecular level.

  Roland St. Francis pissed himself when the door to his panic room crumpled like cheap aluminum foil. He vomited when Buzzkill turned his considerable power on him in order to make him drop the 9 millimeter handgun that the chubby mobster turned on him. St. Francis bled like a stuck pig when Buzzkill landed blow after sonic powered blow to his ribs, cracking them and slowly turning them to powder.
Roland St. Francis was dead before his back hit the supposedly shatterproof glass of his penthouse window when Buzzkill blasted him out of the 32nd floor like a fat cannonball.
  His mentor and his fiance' had been avenged. Now what?
Staring down at the falling figure he'd just executed in a most amazing fashion, there was a split second that Andy Seville thought of joining him. It was then that the police burst into the office and ordered Buzzkill to drop to the floor with his hands behind his head and surrender. He was already in the processes of taking a knee when he remembered that he hadn't said goodbye to his mom and sister. He hadn't said goodbye to Joey Fazio, the man who'd took him from a boy to an adult after his father passed on of a heart attack. He remembered that there was a loudmouthed idiot now running Joey's organization, probably into the ground, who had 'fired' and humiliated him and was sorely in need of a life lesson or two.

  He wanted to, but wasn't ready to die. He definitely wasn't ready to spend the rest of his already empty life rotting in a prison cell.
He would probably never be happy again. He wasn't even going to LOOK for love again. Even though he despised Anton Garibaldi and would eventually seek out and end him, there was really no place in the Fazio Mob for him anymore, even if Joey woke up tomorrow.
He was different now.
Better.
Worse.

  He didn't really have a direction or a purpose anymore, but, still a slave to his habits, depressions, vices and searching for something to fill the empty hole in his soul, Buzzkill would now put his considerable power to soaking in all the hedonistic pleasures and sensory overloads that life had to offer - booze, cash, women, material riches, drugs, gambling, violence and reputation - until it eventually yields what he really yearns for: a swift, yet utterly spectacular death that will be remembered... and God help anyone who tries to stop him.

Height: 5' 11"
Weight 172 lbs
Hair Color: Sandy blonde
Eye Color: medium brown

Powertype: Direct Artificial bioengineering combined with applied technology
Weapons: Technological bioenergy harness (powersuit)
STRENGTH:            4/10
SPEED:                  4/10
AGILITY:                4/10
INTELLECT:            4/10
STAMINA:              7/10
ENDURANCE:         6/10
ENERGY PROJ:       7/10
HEALING:              3/10
PSIONIC ABILITY: 3/10
PERCEPTION:         4/10
FIGHT SKILLS:       6/10

Allies: Joey Fazio (mob boss, comatose)
Enemies: Roland St. Francis (mob boss, deceased); Anton Garibaldi; Heracles (retired); The Bohemians

Trivia:
-Buzzkill is a former smoker and recovered alcoholic, which are the only of his many vices/bad coping mechanisms which he has truly beaten. He still drinks, but totally in controlled moderation and occasional social parameters. He no longer smokes cigarettes at all, and now finds the taste/smell of them disgusting.
-Buzzkill is still a sex addict and gambler and still infrequently but chronically uses cocaine.

Description
Buzzkill
Andrew Louis Seville, 31
  Andy Seville has a gambling problem. And an alcohol problem. And a sex addiction.
He'd been a slave to his vices since he was 13 years old. His father was a dock worker who loved 'playing the ponies'.
To his credit, his old man was on the money about 60 per cent of the time, but 60% was never enough.
  His dad died owing money to a loan shark. To that end, Andy Seville went to work for Joey Fazio as a leg-breaker on the day of his 19th birthday so that the mobster wouldn't take dad's debt out on his fragile mother and little sister.
Andy found out that he was very good at hurting people. The Fazio Organization introduced the young man to the Underworld and all its trappings. Food, booze, money, women, money, violence and even more money.
Andy, to his amazement found that he liked this world. He didn't feel like a 'villain', or a celebrity, but he felt at home. He had made actual friends, and, long after his father's debt was paid off, he continued on to be Joey Fazio's personal bodyguard. By the time he was 25, he was on a first name basis with major players in New York's underworld, high ranking state officials, celebrities both local and national, and even a Senator.
  He'd tried every drug known to man and a few that were so new that they weren't even illegal yet. He'd bedded women from 4 of the 7 continents and even a woman who claimed to be from the mystical lost continent of Atlantis.
Never one to rest on his reputation, Seville spent his free time constantly trying to improve himself via study and training. He always said that he wanted to be more than just another slab of dumb muscle, and while this was true, deep down, there was another reason. - Andy Seville was just smart enough to realize that the stress of his life and the boons it brought had cultivated within him a very addictive personality. The hedonistic excess of his lifestyle wasn't just the affectation of a local goombah trying to be high profile, he was very stressed and sinking into a cycle of addiction. Like his father, he was a gambler, though poker and blackjack were his games of choice, not horse races. He was very fond of alcohol and found himself drinking more and more to take the edge off watching Joey Fazio's back at all times, and oh, how he loved the warm, tender flesh of the opposite sex. It made him feel like he had a connection to someone in his lonely world. Mind you, he had actually made real friends in the Fazio organization, they were like brothers to him. "Bros", if you will. There was comraderie there, for sure, but, not a really close, tactile connection.
  It had been a few years since he'd seen, muchless hugged his mother, Sylvia and sister, Sheila, as he'd vowed to keep them separate and safe from his life of crime. He felt he was unlikely to find true love in his world of working girls, unfaithful wives and hangers-on, though sex, at least, was always available to provide a temporary connection to another human being.
  Joey tried to legitimately better himself and work through his problems.
He attended AA meetings for his alcoholism and triumphed for a solid 8 months despite being around alcohol almost constantly. Joey Fazio was the proverbial criminal with a heart of gold and like a father to him and did his best to help where he could. He introduced Andy to Kimberly, a dancer at one of the club Joey owned who had faced a few demons of her own and come out the other side. They were good for each other, and soon were engaged.
  Simultaneously, Joey Fazio was in talks with an organization that called itself "Tiburon White ", which, alongside its own low level criminal activities, provided black market biogenetic manipulations and enhancements to those able to pay the fee.
The criminal underworld was stepping into the 21st Century and involving itself in what was slowly but surely becoming a metahuman arms race.
  The police had metahuman officers on the force in a couple of the major cities. The government was in serious discussions on whether or not it was permissable by way of the Geneva Convention to induct metahumans into the armed forces. More and more superheroes were getting corporate sponsorship thanks to the level of celebrity they'd garnered on the West Coast, and every day more and more punk-ass streetgangs were recruiting metahuman superfreaks into their ranks to increase their threat levels and gain street cred.
  Joey Fazio was determined to not be left behind. He was in talks with representatives from Tiburon White to 'augment' some of his men, but the prices for their services were sky high... and he was rich!
  Andy sat in on many of the negotiations, of course, and saw what they had to offer. He was intrigued, but Joey had to think it over. It was 4 days later when, a rival criminal "businessman", Roland St. Francis, whom Fazio had 'relieved' of a large shipment of illegal explosive ammunition from overseas, decided to retaliate.
  It was at Fazio's favorite restaurant 'Garnet' (which Joey owned) that St. Francis' men took their shot while Joey and his entourage were having dinner. Automatic gunshots rang out, and the entire building was perforated in gunfire. Many of Joey's crew fell that day. Joey himself had his skull grazed by bullets and wound up in a coma.
  Andy Seville's bride to be, Kimberly Marlowe, was dead. Joey's top lieutenant, Anton Garibaldi, became the acting head of the organization. A testosterone poisoned meathead, Garibaldi wanted to retaliate immediately and brutally. He was "too tough" for a bodyguard, and never really liked Seville anyway, thus, dismissed him.
  Distraught over losing his surrogate father and the woman who had pulled him out of the depths of his own vices, Seville spiralled into a suicidal depression. Spending every morning at Fazio's bedside, and every night staring at a bottle of whiskey and a pile of pills trying to resist ingesting it all, Seville decided that what the St. Francis crew did could not go unpunished. He would avenge his loved ones, and if he died trying then all the better.
  He had an idea, but he needed money. He raided every component of Fazio's empire, piece by piece for all the money he could beg, borrow, embezzle or outright steal. He sold everything of value he'd amassed in a decade of being a criminal:
Watches, technology, jewelry that he never bothered to wear. His car, the fancy house that Joey Fazio set him up in... all of it.
  It took almost a solid 2 months, but, when he was ready, he'd gathered over 44 million dollars. When he was a kid, this kind of money seemed like enough to last him the rest of his life. Now, he only hoped it was enough to change his life.
  He got back in contact with Tiburon White's representatives and demanded to buy his way into enough superpowers to get revenge on St. Francis. Oddly, twisting one's DNA was not as quick, easy or as cheap as Andy surmised it would be. 44 million dollars was barely enough to replace the O-rings on the high-tech battle chassis that the executive representative, "Armory" was wearing. Still, there was a new process that the firm's biogeneticists had been working on, but hadn't perfected, to boost a person's natural bioelectricity to an elevated level. Andy didn't care, as long as it gave him an edge.
  Add to that a prototype battlesuit that was supposed to be a stealth suit - bend light around itself to become invisible, and absorb ambient noise to also be inaudible, but the suit was a failure. It did, however generate noise. A widespread sonic attack to be precise. With a few tweaks, it could be battle-ready in that capacity very easily. Tiburon White was willing to make all that happen for the 44 million dollars that Seville had with him.
  A deal was struck, and Andy submitted himself to biogen manipulation. It took 8 days of gruelling experiments, but in the end, Tiburon White was as good as its word.
  (In truth, as the stealth suit was a failure, they were going to destroy it and start over. The bioelectricity experiment was not really ready for human trials, but, a willing guinea pig volunteering to subject himself to experimentation, in secret, and PAY for the privilege, no-less, was a rare opportunity that couldn't be passed up. Tiburon White was effectively using him as an expendable test subject for possibly substandard processes and materials and raking I'm a 44 million dollar profit that could be put toward the research necessary to perfect the process and equipment.)
  The lab techs had piggybacked Andy's newly acquired bioenergy amplification powers onto the sonic/stealth suit in order to power it from within, which had an odd side effect. Not only did the suit project a vibratory sonic attack/concussion wave that could dent metal and practically disintegrate concrete, but the bioenergy itself was of a certain frequency that could be altered via the suit to produce sonic waves that caused instant nausea and/or blackouts and seizures from prolonged exposure. He could also vibrate his molecules fast enough to become intangible, and the technicians were even able to make the suit work in the fashion of its original intent - to bend light and sound around/through the suit and its wearer to become functionally invisible and inaudible.
Excited and exhilarated to have such power, Andy was adamant to leave immediately in order to track down and murder Roland St. Francis and as many of his other men as he could take down. The lab techs insisted on making more upgrades to the suit and running more tests, and for Andy to rest and heal, but he'd have none of it. One of the disappointed lab nerds made a remark about Andy being "a real buzzkill", and the newly metahuman assassin decided to take that as his name - It was all about reputation, after all. He wanted any of St. Francis's associates with their ears to the ground to know that 'BUZZKILL' was coming for him.

  It didn't take long for Buzzkill to reach his objectives. Anyone in the know who could put 2 and 2 together figured that St. Francis had put a hit on Fazio, and he wasn't really trying hard to hide it. He had 2 judges, 6 lawyers and at least a tenth of the cops in the city in his pocket. Hell, he was even blackmailing one of the city's superheroes, "Heracles", who was fooling around outside his marriage, to look the other way, and/or if necessary, protect him.
He was bulletproof, and he knew it. Unfortunately, St. Francis wasn't Buzzkill-proof.
  No one expected the madman in the red suit covered in pads that glowed with blue and yellow energies to simply hop out of a double-parked van in front of the Presley Hotel where St. Francis operated and blast his way in. No one thought he'd make it all the way to the 32nd floor, shredding gun-toting mobsters left and right ever step of the way. Buzzkill himself, had he been cognizant enough to give it thought, didn't know that the suit he was wearing would be able to deflect flying bullets fired from afar, and liquefy the ones fired from close range on a molecular level.

  Roland St. Francis pissed himself when the door to his panic room crumpled like cheap aluminum foil. He vomited when Buzzkill turned his considerable power on him in order to make him drop the 9 millimeter handgun that the chubby mobster turned on him. St. Francis bled like a stuck pig when Buzzkill landed blow after sonic powered blow to his ribs, cracking them and slowly turning them to powder.
Roland St. Francis was dead before his back hit the supposedly shatterproof glass of his penthouse window when Buzzkill blasted him out of the 32nd floor like a fat cannonball.
  His mentor and his fiance' had been avenged. Now what?
Staring down at the falling figure he'd just executed in a most amazing fashion, there was a split second that Andy Seville thought of joining him. It was then that the police burst into the office and ordered Buzzkill to drop to the floor with his hands behind his head and surrender. He was already in the processes of taking a knee when he remembered that he hadn't said goodbye to his mom and sister. He hadn't said goodbye to Joey Fazio, the man who'd took him from a boy to an adult after his father passed on of a heart attack. He remembered that there was a loudmouthed idiot now running Joey's organization, probably into the ground, who had 'fired' and humiliated him and was sorely in need of a life lesson or two.

  He wanted to, but wasn't ready to die. He definitely wasn't ready to spend the rest of his already empty life rotting in a prison cell.
He would probably never be happy again. He wasn't even going to LOOK for love again. Even though he despised Anton Garibaldi and would eventually seek out and end him, there was really no place in the Fazio Mob for him anymore, even if Joey woke up tomorrow.
He was different now.
Better.
Worse.

  He didn't really have a direction or a purpose anymore, but, still a slave to his habits, depressions, vices and searching for something to fill the empty hole in his soul, Buzzkill would now put his considerable power to soaking in all the hedonistic pleasures and sensory overloads that life had to offer - booze, cash, women, material riches, drugs, gambling, violence and reputation - until it eventually yields what he really yearns for: a swift, yet utterly spectacular death that will be remembered... and God help anyone who tries to stop him.

Height: 5' 11"
Weight 172 lbs
Hair Color: Sandy blonde
Eye Color: medium brown

Powertype: Direct Artificial bioengineering combined with applied technology
Weapons: Technological bioenergy harness (powersuit)
STRENGTH:            4/10
SPEED:                  4/10
AGILITY:                4/10
INTELLECT:            4/10
STAMINA:              7/10
ENDURANCE:         6/10
ENERGY PROJ:       7/10
HEALING:              3/10
PSIONIC ABILITY: 3/10
PERCEPTION:         4/10
FIGHT SKILLS:       6/10

Allies: Joey Fazio (mob boss, comatose)
Enemies: Roland St. Francis (mob boss, deceased); Anton Garibaldi; Heracles (retired); The Bohemians

Trivia:
-Buzzkill is a former smoker and recovered alcoholic, which are the only of his many vices/bad coping mechanisms which he has truly beaten. He still drinks, but totally in controlled moderation and occasional social parameters. He no longer smokes cigarettes at all, and now finds the taste/smell of them disgusting.
-Buzzkill is still a sex addict and gambler and still infrequently but chronically uses cocaine.