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Azazel
Topic Started: Feb 10 2014, 06:44 PM (818 Views)
Azazel
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[align=center]PLAYER INFORMATION[/align]

NAME:Raven
CONTACT:PM , email: pdxpaperpauper@gmail.com
HOW YOU FOUND US:Marvel Top Sites
OTHER CHARACTERS ON THE SITENone
RULES CODE:Blackbird

CREDIT WHERE IT'S DUE: http://marvel.com/universe ; wikipedia entry ; discussion with writers of Mystique and Nightcrawler on XMR; character is heavily adapted to veer away from his biblical/mythological history and his overpowered aspects.

[align=center]CHARACTER INFORMATION[/align]

[align=center]Posted Image [/align]
[align=center]Tom Hiddleston[/align]

BASIC INFORMATION

CANON OR ORIGINAL:Canon
AFFILIATION:Brotherhood

FULL NAME:Azazel
CODENAME:Azazel
NICKNAMES:none

CURRENT AGE:310
DATE OF BIRTH:1701
MARITAL STATUS:Single
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
BASE OF OPERATIONS: Sanctuary
TIME AT INSTITUTE: [if applicable]
REGISTERED WITH SHIELD?No
HOMETOWN: Isla Des Demonas
KNOWN RELATIVES:Kurt Wagner, son.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

HEIGHT:6’
BUILD:Lithe and muscular.
EYES:Red Iris with Black Sclera
HAIR:Dark Brown
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Azazel has a devilish appearance marked by dark red skin, pointed ears, and angular facial features. Aside from his ears and skin color, the biggest departure from humanoid anatomy is his long prehensile tail with a triangular tip.
CLOTHING STYLE:Azazel thinks of himself as a leader, someone to be respected, and he dresses as such. During the period of time when he ruled over several Caribbean islands, he wore impressively ceremonial garb, adorned with gold and arcane items. Upon joining modern civilization he came to favor well-tailored suits, black wool or white linen.
UNIFORM:He favors a simple set of black pants and tunic in the style of a Kung-Fu Gi. Not only does it provide freedom of movement, but on a mission where he needs to be discrete, it reduces the visibility of his red skin. He does wear a light kevlar vest underneath as he cannot heal quickly enough to recover from a mortal wound.

He also carries a rapier with him, as he’s always looking for an opportunity for swordplay.

POWERS

GENERAL DESCRIPTION:

TELEPORTATION: Azazel is able to move from one location to another near instantly by opening a portal into another dimension, entering that dimension for a fraction of a second, and then opening another portal to where he wants to be, reentering his home dimension. He can teleport objects and people, but this is tiring to him as it is like he’s holding whatever mass he’s teleporting while in the other dimension. His teleportation power is very similar to Nightcrawler’s, but there are a few distinctions to note.

Azazel’s teleport has more of a rushing wind sound than the echoing tube-thumping sound of Nightcrawler’s. For now I’m representing this with FWOOSH, but I’m still looking for a good onomatopoeia representation.

Where Nightcrawler’s teleportations leave a cloud of blue smoke, Azazel’s begin and end with a fiery tear in the fabric between dimensions and a cloud of reddish-black smoke. Whether the difference in color of the smoke that seeps through the other dimension indicates he’s traveling through a different dimension than Nightcrawler, or a different part of the same dimension isn’t clear. It could also be that the smoke from the other dimension has some quality that takes on the coloring of the person traveling as Azazel’s smoke matches his body coloring.

Teleporting is jarring, and time spent in the other dimension is disorienting. Due to his age and experience, Azazel is more tolerant of the process than Nightcrawler. He can teleport greater distances, covering ten miles or possibly more, and he can pause for a moment in the other dimension, peering through a “window” to see his destination. What this means is, unlike Nightcrawler, he doesn’t have to see where he’s going on departure, because he can check before reentry.

IMMUNITY/REGENERATION: Azazel’s immune system isn’t susceptible to any naturally occurring pathogens. Free radicals don’t deteriorate his cell structure as they do a normal human’s. Although he doesn’t have a healing factor anything near Wolverine’s, he heals faster than a baseline human, taking a few hours to regenerate what would take a human days. Because of all these factors, he appears to be immortal, and has lived over three centuries.

PREHENSILE TAIL: Azazel’s tail is five feet long from its base to its sharp tip. The triangular tip is hardened and sharp enough to pierce human flesh. Powered by strong twitch muscles, Azazel can employ his tail as a lightning fast whip and lift an average-sized man for a few seconds with it.

AGILITY: Azazel is preternaturally agile. He’s developed his flexibility and speed into general combat prowess and specifically into excellent swordsmanship. During his time among pirates, expertise in swordplay was necessary, and he’s practiced continually since.


WEAKNESS:

Despite the endurance he’s built over the years, teleporting is still disorienting if Azazel does so in rapid succession. It is also tiring, especially if he’s teleporting heavier objects/people. While he can teleport into a space he cannot see, the longer the distance he travels, the more difficult it is for him to do so.

While Azazel is generally quick and stealthy, the brimstone smell of his teleportation combined with the characteristic sound is a clear warning of his presence.

Azazel is mortal. He heals at an advanced rate and is immune to most illness, but any injury that would kill a baseline human will kill him. An injury that would incapacitate a human will incapacitate him as well.

PERSONALITYAzazel is an opportunist who craves power. He prefers the flattery of being given what he wants because it is his due, but if he can’t manipulate people to give, then he will take.

Ultimately, the lessons he learned as a child pirate inform his personality as an adult. This even extends to a concept of the ‘pirate code’. While he is always jockeying for power, he respects his position as a member of a crew. He might curry favor and spread rumors to gain a better position within the Brotherhood, but he would never do anything to endanger his ‘crew’ on a mission. It was acceptable for a crew member on a pirate ship to challenge the captain’s authority, but to do so while in the middle of a caper would only prove what an incapable leader he was. Another piece of the code he subscribes to is to not take personally what could be good business. It allows him to rationalize working with the abrasive personalities he must deal with in the Brotherhood. The patient man, who knows when to act, often wins the day.

Living a long time has actually made Azazel more risk-aversive. He prizes his long life. What some might see as cowardice, he merely thinks of as proper prioritization. There is no purpose or cause for which he would die. That kind of zealotry is foolish to him.

Another result of a long life is a fondness for pomp and circumstance, for the finer things in life, for art and creativity. He loves a proper party with all its pageantry. A day where he must rush through a meal is a bad day. Azazel enjoys an argument for argument’s sake, for the joy of intelligent conversation. Conversely, he has no time for fools or those who disrespect ‘culture’.

While slow to anger, Azazel’s flexible morals make him unpredictable when it comes to how he responds to insult or injury. He might smile like nothing is wrong, and kill the offender with his next move. He has no compunctions against killing, but he also prefers to avoid the reputation dealing death brings. Why kill someone when there’s the possibility of turning them to work for his benefit?

Appearing stodgy and a bit puffed-up, Azazel lets his hair down when interacting with someone he believes on his level. He can be downright cheery and playful when engaging in swordplay or a game of chess with a perceived equal. He is always vacillating between excitement over finally being among others of his kind, looking to challenge himself, and a sense of jealousy, no longer being the big fish in a small pond, wanting his old life as king of the castle back.

HISTORY: PRE-APOCALYPSE

EARLY 1700’S: Azazel grew up on the pirate ship Lucifer roaming the waters of the Caribbean, raised, in a manner of speaking, by the captain, Nathan Prim. Nathan was the one who named him, calling him his ‘fallen angel’, a sign from God that he was meant to be the greatest pirate ever. Piracy was on the decline, and the added intimidation having a demon on board gave him, plus Azazel’s particular abilities, gave Nathan’s ship an edge. Nathan wouldn’t tell him where he found him, whether he was born in a European settlement or in a native village. Azazel learned as a youth not to ask of his origin, as it earned him beatings. Nathan learned in his later years that his life depended on keeping the secret, for it was the one carrot he held that kept Azazel from killing him. For a time anyways. Ultimately Azazel lost patience and speared him through the heart with his tail.

After Captain Prim’s death, Azazel took over as captain of the ship. The men were used to his alien look and frightening abilities, seeing them as a blessing upon their venture as opposed to a curse. With Azazel at the helm, they could drown the entire crew of a ship without firing a shot. He was the preeminent pirate. He might have remained a thief indefinitely if for not an experience he had on one of the islands he chose for stashing loot. Upon finding the island occupied, he quickly decided to abandon it as a hiding place, but then he noted the attitude of the natives. Rather than afraid, they were reverent, and seemed to want to show him something. Following them into a cave of the island, he found a crude painting on a wall of a baby. A red, demonic-looking baby with a pointed tail and a cloud of smoke around it.

Azazel decided to remain on the island, the Isla Des Demonas, and see what he could gather from the locals. He gave care of the ship to his second in command, and sent it off, aware that without his abilities, it would likely be weeks before the crew was captured. The villagers had little information on his birth, but their worship of him as a deity taught him an important lesson: Why steal what someone will freely give? The key was power. With power, people would give him whatever he wished. Starting with the Isla Des Demonas, he set up a secret empire, a world of which he was God. Ships avoided the cluster of islands he ruled for they quickly learned a ship that drew too close was magically punctured by holes and sunk amid a cloud of red smoke. From sunken ships he accumulated and wealth, and from his people he collected power. For over two hundred years he lived like this.

And then the conflux of an increasingly mind-numbing boredom and the realization that there were other super-beings like himself in the world changed everything.

1940’s: The girl with the solid blue eyes was an anomaly among the people he ruled, but when Azazel realized she could read minds, she became special to him. He declared her the priestess of his religion, and kept her with at all public gatherings. But then he realized she was using her powers on the weak-minded to turn villagers against him, attempt a coup. He killed her symbolically, teleporting her head off her shoulders. If one such as her might be born in the relatively small population of his kingdom, what might the world hold? Perhaps someone worthy of his companionship, for the sycophantic villagers wearied him. Perhaps he might find someone worthy of bearing an heir.

He began to search in earnest for other “better men”, not yet knowing the word mutant. Returning to his island kingdom only to maintain control, Azazel traveled the world in his search. He found plenty of humans who feared him. He cared not a whit for them unless they interfered, and then he quickly killed them and moved on. He also found his “better men”, some he befriended, some he seduced, one in particular has particular relevance.

1970’s: In Bavaria Azazel met the mutant Mystique. Their power and superiority drew them to each other, but besides their brief passion, there was little to sustain a relationship. Azazel was unaccustomed to sharing, and Mystique was uninterested in being second. He moved on, unaware that she was pregnant.

The next few decades were a challenge, philosophically for Azazel. Knowledge of mutants became prevalent, major players among the “better men” came forward. Azazel was troubled. Part of him longed for camaraderie, to be with those who were like him, and part of him feared leaving his known power base to live amongst mutants, many of whom might be his better. He live amongst inferiors, be secure, and bored, or leave the safety of his nest and be among his people. Centuries had made him set in his ways. He toyed with a membership in the Hellfire Club, joining them on some ventures, but disliking the low status he had to accept as a new member.

He kept his eye on the mutant factions, but he returned to his island sanctuary, eschewing equal companions for his worshipers. Then Apocalypse rose to power and he realized his tiny world was not inviolate.

DURING APOCALYPSE (April 7th through April 12th, 2009)
Azazel would have argued that his stance during Apocalypse’s attack on Earth was one of caution rather than cowardice. Regardless of his rationale, his strategy was to turtle up, watch the media for signs that his world was in danger, and wait. Two things happened that changed his stance.

One was a video clip he saw of the mutants who were fighting back. It was blurry, but for four distinct seconds there was a blue mutant with demonic features who appeared to teleport. Azazel didn’t draw any conclusions from the clip, but curiosity blossomed, eclipsing his usual priority of self-preservation.

The second was that his island kingdom was wiped out.

The storms brought about by the Eye of Horus ravaged the Caribbean islands. He was used to hurricanes. Hurricanes killed people. But they didn’t wipe out every living thing in sight. Pushing his abilities, Azazel jumped to the mainlaind in a series of teleports minutes before the storms hit the Isla Des Demonas. When he returned after the storm, there was nothing to return to.

The world had moved on without him, he hadn’t contributed a thing to the greatest mutant battle of all time, and there was a potential relative of his out in the world, oblivious of him. It was time for a change.

POST-APOCALYPSE
Without his island kingdom, Azazel was in crisis. A world-changing event, headed by an incredibly powerful mutant, pulled the rug right out from under him. His first response was to build bolt-holes in which to hide. Though devoid of life, his vast wealth was still hidden away in the caves of Island Des Demonas. He purchased safeholds across the world, looking for a new primary base from which to build a second kingdom. All the while he kept his eye on mutant activity, on the factions and how they behaved. He was impressed that mutant-kind had come together to defeat Apocalypse, and envious that there was no credit to his own name in that victory. Of course he valued his own skin, but he also craved power. Those who had helped defeat Apocalypse had renown. Though keeping to his own business still, setting up relationships with humans he could manipulate into serving him, he started to consider which faction he would join if he were to make an appearance on the world stage.

PURIFIERS
It seemed ridiculous to Azazel that the mutants would have so much trouble dealing with some petty humans after handling Apocalypse. Yes, they had numbers, but the mutants had power. If they were less cautious in their use of power, he thought they might not have lost nearly as many mutants as they did. The humans were willing to make sacrifices, kill mutants en masse, why should mutants hesitate to do the same? This was when he made his decision. Magneto’s efforts to just take out the leadership of the Purifiers were the right move. The Brotherhood had the right of it. The only thing holding him back from simply teleporting in and asking to join was his pride. He might aspirations to lead, he might even get there someday, but they would start him out on the bottom. He would go from being a demon god to simply a lackey.

Determined to try, Azazel approached Magneto about working with the Brotherhood, if not as a member, at least as an ally. Someone willing to work with mutants who had the right idea about where they belonged in Earth’s hierarchy. The Brotherhood was interested in him, in what he could offer, and he began to attend their meetings, take part in their activities.

SKRULLS
But when the Skrull infection began, Azazel turtled up once more, reverting to his old ways. Recognizing that he was risking his reputation as a rising Brotherhood member, Azazel referenced the ‘free-lance’ status of his work for the Brotherhood. He cited vague responsibilities he had, commitments he’d made, and then made a quick exit, hiding in a camouflaged fortress he’d built in the mountains of New Zealand.

CURRENT HISTORY/ILLUMINATI
After the Skrull menace ended, Azazel waited a few months and then contacted the Brotherhood, saying he’d tied up what loose ends he had, and had come to a decision. He was ready to join the Brotherhood in earnest. He knew he had to make some level of commitment or be seen as someone who vanishes at the first sign of trouble. He was also tired, himself, of running. Perhaps being a more visible mutant, taking sides, would mean greater risk. But he was beginning to see that power and infamy were worth risks. Mutants like Exodus and Magneto were respected and feared. They had also put themselves in the path of danger when necessary. Recognizing he would have to actually prove himself, Azazel gave his allegiance to the Brotherhood. So he would start out as a lackey. So be it. He would quickly rise in rank if they saw what he was capable of.

The first test of his loyalty to his faction came with the rise of the Illuminati. Mutants, enhanced by some cosmic power, took over the world, wielding power beyond what Azazel had thought possible. For the first time, he fought his instinct to teleport away and hide until this new menace was over. For one, he wasn't sure there was anywhere he could hide that would keep him safe this time, and for another, he had made a commitment. To leave this time would confirm what kind of man he was to the rest of the Brotherhood. Any aspirations he had to lead would be worthless.

Magneto disappeared, but Exodus stood strong, directing the Brotherhood through the escalating threat. Through it all, Azazel was assigned home guard, a task he took willingly. Though he felt being on the battlefield might win him more glory, remaining in Sanctuary to ensure its safety was a decent compromise between his old ways and his new hope. If there was a decent place to hide from the madness taking the planet, Sanctuary seemed it.

But it wasn't. Vulcan attacked them, confirming that there was no place safe. Ready to stand and fight, Azazel began to charge into the fray, but Pyro ordered him to work the evacuation effort. Being ordered was like a fishbone stuck in his craw, but following commands was part of the game. Besides, he had to admit it was a good decision. Many of the lives saved were due to his diligence in teleporting Brotherhood members out of the crumbling Sanctuary. There was no great show made of it, but the Brotherhood acolytes told him his work had been essential, acknowledging his role in the Brotherhood's survival.

SAMPLE RP POST:

Azazel lay in bed, blinking slowly against the morning sun shining through the open window of his Menorca mansion. He drew in a deep breath of the warm sea air and sat up. Despite the total destruction of Isla Des Demonas, he couldn’t resist the charms of island living. He had a castle in central Europe he could retreat to, but it was so cold and isolated… He would end up pacing its cavernous halls longing for the sight of brilliant blue water, the scent of freshly caught fish grilled on the beach, the sound of the locals singing and dancing after the tourists had gone to bed. No, this time of year, being cooped up in a snowbound castle would only result in him taking his frustrations out on some unlucky servant, and that was never good for morale.

Azazel preferred his people willing, compliant. Fear was a tool of last resort.

The only sign that his estate was any different from the other resorts on the island was its constant staffing level. The ebb and flow of tourism meant many of the rentals were empty for chunks of time, their staff dismissed until customers were booked. If anyone noticed this peculiarity, though, they kept it to themselves. Certainly, none of Azazel’s staff would complain. They worked hard, but they were well compensated, given ample free time and spare income. He only required one thing in exchange for his largesse.

Complete and utter loyalty.

Pushing up from the ample mattress, Azazel flipped out of bed, landing in a crouch by his wardrobe. He slipped into a linen suit, sliding his tail through the specially tailored opening in the back, took a quick appraising look in his mirror, and then disappeared in a flash of light, leaving a lingering wisp of red smoke behind.

Fwoosh. He appeared at the breakfast table. The servant setting out his coffee and newspaper was well used to his teleporting, but she still startled slightly at his entrance.

“Buenos Dias, Maria,” he said. All his servants spoke English, but he preferred the sound of Spanish. It saddened him that English was quickly becoming the language of the World, such a harsh and clumsy tongue. She responded in Spanish, declining to look at him out of respect rather than fear. Maria had been his for a decade, she was accustomed to his appearance.

“Your Excellency, smoked fish and eggs for your breakfast?”

“That sounds delightful,” he said with a nod, picking up the newspaper to scan the headlines. There were only three likely choices for breakfast, and he knew Maria prepared all three each day so she would have them available immediately. She scurried off and returned in minutes with a richly laden tray. The smell of the well-prepared food was so intoxicating, he couldn’t withhold a fanged smile. Maria merely blinked quickly at his toothy grin. Good, I shall make sure she has some extra in her coffers today.

He was about to eat his first forkful of perfectly tender fish when he was alerted by a shout. His head jerked up, tail suddenly thrashing back and forth behind him. Several more shouts were followed by the sound of a larger group yelling what sounded like “Quiet!” The disturbance was coming from the courtyard. Azazel turned an inquisitive eye at Maria. At first the woman shrugged, but then she sighed, shaking her head.

“Antonio…” She said. Just a name, but Azazel knew immediately what the situation was. Antonio was the grandson of Juan, his head of housekeeping. Rebellious, like most teenagers, he disliked the arrangement his family had with Azazel, thinking his people treated like slaves. Juan had promised to deal with the recalcitrant boy, but it seemed that was proving more difficult than anticipated.

“Keep my breakfast warm, would you?” Azazel asked, teleporting away before Maria had a chance to nod.

Fwoosh. He appeared in the center of the courtyard, leaving the rent between the two dimensions open a little longer, allowing a heavier cloud of the acrid red smoke to leak through. He had glanced through a dimensional window for half a second to make sure he would teleport in just a few feet away from the young troublemaker. Predictably, Antonio’s rant was interrupted by a burst of coughing as his lungs filled with the smell of brimstone.

“What seems to be the problem, child?” He said, his demeanor patient with a hint of threat in his tone.

Antonio started to back away, and Azazel thought perhaps his appearance had been enough. But then the boy’s stubborn streak kicked in. He could tell from the set of the boy’s jaw this was going to take a little more work. He remembered the scent of the fish waiting for him, and his mouth watered. Best to do this quickly.

“You’re the problem!” Antonio shouted out, his fists clenched and trembling at his side. “You have them all tricked into serving you, worshiping you as a demon, and I know the truth! You… you’re just a mutant, like all the rest of them.” The surrounding crowd that had been trying to placate the boy gasped.
Azazel didn’t answer right away, he simply held the boy’s gaze with his red eyes. He took one step forward, opening his mouth, touching his fangs slowly with the tip of his tongue.

“Just…. a mutant?” His voice was a purr, it hummed softly as if this were a quiet conversation between just him and the boy. “Are you so sure?” His tail whipped back and forth behind him as he spoke.

“Yeah… pretty damn sure.” Azazel’s eyes were drawn to the boy’s hands, still trembling, and starting to scab over and grow, as if they were turning into rocks. His brow arched. They were turning into rocks. Well, this was interesting. Breakfast was certainly going to be delayed.

Fwoosh. He was gone. He took a moment to glance through before reappearing behind the boy. The boy was pretty smart, he was already spinning and punching his rock hands where he predicted Azazel would reappear. Not that predictable boy. He teleported back in on the weaker left side of Antonio, put a hand on his shoulder before he had time to react, and teleported him two thousand feet up into the sky.

Immediately they both plummeted toward the ground. Azazel saw the boy turning more of his body into rock. “I’m not sure that’s the best way to soften your landing, child,” he shouted over the roar of the wind. Azazel streamlined his body to keep pace with the boy’s fall, talking loud enough to be heard, paying no heed to Antonio’s screams.

“I may be a mutant, I may be a demon. As far as you’re concerned, it doesn’t matter.” They were nearing the ground at great speed. Azazel reached out, grabbing hold of the boy’s arm, and teleported them back up to two thousand feet again. “I’m in charge. I keep your family comfortable and happy. Now. You either accept that…” He waited until they were ten feet from impact and then teleported them back up a third time. “Or this time I let you impact and see how helpful that mutation is… oh look.” He pointed toward the ground, which was now water. “I took us out over the sea. Being a rock is even more useful now.” He grinned broadly, arcing his body so that he moved slightly away from the falling boy, as if to demonstrate he was serious about not helping him this time.

“Yes!” The boy cried, his voice hoarse from screaming.

“Yes, what…” Azazel continued, conversational.

“Yes I accept! I will obey you!”

Azazel crossed his arms as they fell, looking like he was taking the boy’s words into serious consideration. At the last moment, he nodded, reached a hand out, and teleported the two of them back into the courtyard. Juan was there, trembling, obviously wanting to run to the boy, but not wanting to displease Azazel. Azazel beckoned to him and he rushed over to his grandson, scolding him with several words Azazel would have to ask about later.

“Show is over,” he said, addressing the crowd. “Tonight we shall have a special feast in honor of Antonio’s decision to be our loyal friend. Juan, make sure Antonio has a seat at my table.” There was a group whisper or relief and a few quiet claps. Azazel nodded and without another word teleported back to his breakfast table.

Eliciting loyalty had become more complex with the greater prevalence of mutants. He thought fondly of the old days, of a time when appearing out of thin air as a demon was enough to get him whatever he wanted. He had to admit, as he thought of Antonio’s cockiness turned to terror, these modern times certainly were more fun.

Smiling, he dove into his fish and eggs with abandon.
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Cyclops
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
I'm good on everything, right up to the last piece of the history. You need to include the Illuminati events of last year. Do that and as long as Mystique and Nightcrawler have signed off on this, then, I'm ok with it.

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Azazel
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Excellent, I will get right on that. I have messaged both the Mystique and Nightcrawler writers, but I'm not sure they've seen the finished app, so they should definitely take a gander when they get a chance.
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Nightcrawler
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I believe I'm good on this.
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Azazel
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Added three paragraphs to acknowledge the Illuminati plot. Let me know of any further edits needed.
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Cyclops
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Punches from the Punch Dimension
I'm good with that

[S T A M P]
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Bishop
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You have my [S T A M P]

Welcome to XMR.
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