He used to be the comical hothead that everyone got a kick out of seeing his crazed reactions from. He was the drunken fool who wrecked all the floors of the old HQ with a demolition ball on Halloween.  He'd always fume at stupid insults with a certain cockiness of kicking anyone's ass who opposed him. He was on top of the world who would scream and shout until the whole world heard his name, and he was the hero who could tackle the impossible and come out grinning.

The six months he spent in POSRA's clean facilities changed all that. It wasn't the officers who changed him, it was being locked in a room with his own head that changed how he viewed the world around him. Finally recently returning to the brigade, he only wished to see one person again. But the door stayed closed, and he gave up hope. He's resumed his duties without a day's rest.  Jokes fly over his head now, and insults are ignored. His mature demeanor is tinged with skepticism and boring nonchalance. Conversing  with him will be difficult, and he'll probably just leave the room if he sees someone trying too hard. The mercy he once granted to his enemies has dissipated, and he's lost any aspects of fighting fair. 

Likes: alcohol, listening and observing others, sleeping away his spare time, focusing on any and all distractions work can grant him.

Dislikes: Murder/gore, bears, junk food, relationships.


His biggest fear is never having a place to call home, which is coming true.

▌ H I S T O R Y

---

Summary: 

Fyn and Lyle Domani took escorts to leave Pearson, moving to a rabbit-neutral country like Italy, before killing the escorts so they could live freely. Living in Venice for four years, they raised Kynton happily until POSRA officers discovered the falsified reports from the deceased escorts and came crashing into their warm Venetian home. Pregnant with her second child, Fyn hid Kynton in the pantry before fleeing for her and her unborn child's life. Meanwhile, Lyle was captured and detained, sent back to Pearson. With no records of a child in the home, the officers left without searching- or finding- Kynton. He was left with a storage of prepared goods that would last a couple weeks.

When he wobbled around town one night, he walked onto the yard of the Moretti family, where a little girl named Eleri helped him and befriended him. She took care of his needs and taught him English, even though she had a very bratty attitude with him. When Eleri and her family moved away a few years later, Kynton was now eight years old as he took to the streets entirely. Fending for himself was harsh and unforgiving, but when the circus came to town, vendors he could sneak food from were plentiful. He also scurried around the tents themselves after the shows ended, picking up what the audience had dropped. It was there that he met a young rabbit girl, a part of the circus family. Her kindness burst at the seams as she provided food, water to drink and bathe, even bought him clothes. His original attitude of using her turned into enjoying her company, and they became fast friends. They were happy for an entire year before one day, the circus was destroyed and the family was massacred. The girl was gone. It would be only recently that he learns this tragedy was entirely his fault. 

He took on dull jobs with little pay before joining a gang of young punks like himself. They got into plenty of trouble but all worked together to make it work. After stealing a gun from his boss, they taught him how to use it and more. A victim in a misplaced mugging attempt when he was 12 years old, he finally shot a man for the first time to save his own life. With this new sense of control, his work as a contract killer began. After years of murder, his talent was recognized by a BJBB recruiter, and offered him a position to join. 

A couple years into Pearson and the brigade, he'd made many precious friends. His desire to protect them only grew, and he rose in ranks to do so. 

Full:

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The condition of Pearson is no better than it ever was for the hybrid population. There was no crevice or corner of peace for a family to be raised without the tangible prejudice. So it's no wonder a newlywed couple scheduled a one way ticket to a country far and neutral for the views of their kind. The only way off the treacherous island for Fyn and Lyle Domani included professional human escorts reporting every action and watching their every move day and night. While the silly and fun-loving Lyle promised there would be a way to work around this constant fly on the wall, Fyn had no intention of ever putting up with Pearson's intruding regulations for the rest of their lives. With an extensive background of technology and hacking methods, it was quite easy to feign the reports of their situation long after the escorts were eliminated from the picture. Finally, settled in the City of Water, the two could live and love in peace. 

A baby boy was born just four days before Christmas of 2294. It was difficult to get adequate medical care due to avoiding the authorities discovering the absence of the escorts, but Fyn had plenty of family and friend connections in this country to aid her, being this nation one of much grander illicit activities- her personal circumstances were easily overlooked with a small sum of cash. Lyle wasn't pleased or secured with Fyn's conniving ways but he couldn't argue that she'd kept this family safe and sound, the happiest they would ever be. This didn't change for four long, silly years. They lived as well as the humans did, and had just nearly forgotten the turmoil they'd left behind. 

It all caught up to them one overcast summer day, just after registering Kynton for kindergarten for the coming fall. Lyle was weakened and bedridden from a terrible bout of the flu and Fyn was cooking lunch when the doors busted in. A small force of POSRA officers invaded the small home in an absolute fury for their fallen comrades and the lies they'd believed for years from these rabbits. Being the instant thinker on her feet, Fyn wasted no time to scoop up Kynton and hide him away in the brand new, empty pantry they'd just brought home the day before. He fit snug with loving kisses on the cheeks and being told to not say a word or move an inch. He knew better than to believe her when she said this was a surprise game of hide and seek- for the crashes of furniture and decor, the screaming and crying, this was far less than playtime. The men's voices were loud, booming in the small pantry to echo right in the boy's ears as the house was ruined all around him. There could hardly be a fight to stop them. Lyle was captured prisoner and thrown in the back of the truck outside, the whole while demanding Fyn run for her life to save her and the unborn child in her belly. It was a heart wrenching decision, but she fled the house and left Kynton to the will of the officers yet to find him. 

There were no registered children of the two, so the officers didn't know to bother searching for a child in this house. After ransacking the rest of the place for evidence of the lost escorts, the force of officers took off with Lyle and the house grew silent. It would be an hour of peace before the boy allowed himself to cry aloud, screaming and wailing in fear and confusion. He called for his mother, his father, for the rest of the afternoon and evening, and sobbed through the night until he fell asleep. 

It was too cramping to remain in the pantry any longer the next morning. He'd finally stepped out and wobbled around. Shards of glass from broken vases and picture frames of only his parents laid strewn across the floor. He searched through the house for either of them, and waited all day for them to return. They never did. 

Fyn was smart. She prepared her son for this kind of situation well before it actually took place because she always knew the risk was there. For the next few weeks, Kynton could survive and remain in the house with the large storage of foods and things kept in a storm shelter behind the house. He cut his hands several times with the lids of cans from various veggies, fruits and soups. There was lots of food, but he was far too young to know how to ration any of it, so it vanished much too fast. The unpaid bills resulted in losing power and water anyway, so it was time to move on. 


After a few hours into the night of wobbling around completely lost and scared, he was noticed by a little girl sitting on the front porch of a grand home. The family was known as the Moretti's, one of the wealthiest families from Venetian real estate. The daughter, whose hair as pale as white sand, was anything but...friendly. She was spoiled, bratty, demanding and whiny. She was a bully from complete hell and demanded to be treated like a princess. A pain in the ass, horrid child, she set her eyes on the strange boy who came wandering into her yard. Seeing to his needs- feeding him, clothing him, sneaking him into the unused guest bedroom each night- he had no choice but to oblige to her outrageous temperament. 

Over the next four years, Kynton and Eleri became much closer friends. Eleri's family wasn't thrilled about their daughter aiding some strange kid every once in awhile, but they did nothing only because they hadn't any idea just how often Kynton stuck around the place. Plus, Eleri had become much less...bothersome. Kynton learned from Eleri's schoolbooks and she helped teach him everything she learned during the school day so she could review herself. She taught him English as she was taught, and he observed everything she did around the house when she was left home alone. The two beat the absolute shit out of each other whenever they fought- which was often- but they became no different than siblings. 

Mr. Moretti had his sights on a business bargain way down south, so it couldn't be helped the family would soon move. Eleri packed an extra suitcase of necessities for the homeless boy she'd leave behind, and she left the package on the porch as the doors were locked for the final time. Again, these things wouldn't last long, but he was much more prepared for the streets now than he was years ago. 


The vagrant eight year old was quite a menace. Memorizing the times and routes schoolkids often took in the morning, he knew their backpacks either had food or money or both inside. With any scrap metal weapon he could salvage from the trash, he'd easily mug the kids into throwing all they had at him. It became bothersome when the police started keeping watch over the kids though so that didn't last long either. 

It became harder and harder to get by. Foraging in the trash only got him filthy and sick. Finding food in a week that was actually edible was a feat. Thankfully, the waterways were fresh. Dirty as slime, moss and other bacteria coated the walls of the streets they carved through, but drinkable. He could bathe in it too, but stains became ground-in without soap. As he grew, the clothes he wore became tattered and tight even after the elastic snapped. He did manage to forage an old dirty T shirt from the garbage though, and it was huge! After a few hard scrub-washings and letting it dry, this long shirt could keep his whole body warm for the colder months to come. 

It was late fall when the circus came to town, and outdoor activity in the area truly came to life. It was the season of barbecues and outdoor eating as the last of the sun's heat would soon dissipate for the holidays. The "family of freaks" was scheduled to be here for the next several weeks, providing ample time for the boy to steal feasts of junk food from the outdoor vendors day in and day out. 

But the vendors were often closed when it rained, forcing him to scavenge throughout the busy tents. He learned to wait through the showtimes and sneak in through the crowd. Many would leave food within the bleachers so he'd get to it much sooner than the mice would. It would be after such a show that he would be found by a little four year old rabbit girl, part of the circus family, playing by herself in the bleachers. He wanted to be left alone to feed himself, but she was...intrigued. Interested in why the dirty boy was picking up dirty food from the dirty ground, she bothered him with questions before popping out her own lunch and sharing it with him. Amused by the fork, he took it for himself- along with her scarf and entire meal. 

The girl was called Bambi, just like the deer. The two slowly became friends when Kynton's motivation shifted from using her to enjoying her company. She'd drag him to meet the whole family, which welcomed the friend with open arms. It was so easy to cling to this new family, so he came back every day for food and fun. Bambi spent her entire tub of coins to get him new clothes, and it made him unbelievably happy to be clean, warm and full for once in his life. 

But that too, didn't last. 

The tents were ransacked too. Fabric torn and flapping from the metal poles like gruesome flags. Smoke lingered in the air while the cinders still burned. The remaining show animals trapped in their cages were terrified of everything around them. The pets he once played with now refused to let him come close. 

Bodies were strewn across the grass, half charred and a bloody heap. He screamed in horror. He cried in confusion again. The little girl was gone, no matter where he looked and shouted. But the rest of the family laid here in the shambles of their own forsaken home. 

There's no ceremony for freaks. They had no known relatives or contacts, no one to pay for proper burial services. He knew this from the start, and spent the rest of the day in the frigid air digging holes in the frozen ground relentlessly just to put them all to rest. Authorities questioned him harshly as a suspect when they arrived, but they knew a famished eight year old couldn't have done all this, so they let him go. 

---

He started taking on odd jobs to get money. He did dirty work for little pay, not qualified for the minimum wage and child labor laws passed for the human race. He cooked and cleaned among other lowly work for various restaurants, bars and casinos. After earning a little bit of money, he started wanting more. He'd gotten greedy, resorting back to theft. 

One night, he stole something that would change his life forever. He'd broken into his rich boss's home with the intention of taking something worth selling, when he found a shoe box sitting open on a pool table. Inside lay a glock pistol and ammunition. As the house dog started barking from the hall at the intruder, he snatched the box and took off running. He couldn't deny the thrill coursing through him at the idea of this weapon though. Now he could make others beg. The excitement was almost sadistic. But first he had to learn how to use it. 

Living on the streets day in and day out got him into plenty of trouble. But instead of running for his life, now all he had to do was point this thing and it would be those guys taking off screaming. But that didn't always work, especially with a gang that had pistols of their own. But they weren't the type of thugs ready to mindlessly shoot a kid, so they decided to recruit him. Make use of another body. He did the dirty work for these guys too. This included street watch while they robbed convenience stores, or be police bait while they used the distraction to carry out other plans. Kynton hated them. Wanted them all dead for how they blatantly extorted him. But it was his own fault he ended up here in the first place. At the very least, they suffered together. They were all homeless punks with no food, money or future. 

For the next few years, the gang taught Kynton how to use guns. Not just the one he stole, but a wide variety. He needed to be flexible. They showed him aiming techniques and tricks to get the best kill for still, far, and moving targets. They practiced together with spray-painted targets on walls, cans on ledges, eventually advancing onto startled squirrels and birds. Once he'd mastered the techniques for his own accord, they began training with paintball guns against each other for real armed combat scenarios. Every one of the gang members had their own tactics to which Kynton absorbed, combined and reformed into his own style- a dynamic and ruthless fighter with eyes to kill. But he wouldn't realize just how good he'd trained until someone actually died by his hands. 

That day came when he was twelve years old. It was a chilly spring day and the group of punks were still resting in the viaduct. Kynton had gone off to shoplift at a convenience store but apparently, someone planned to rob him instead. Thinking the kid was somebody else, the man cornered him in a parking lot and drew his gun, demanding a valuable item that Kynton did not have. In fear of his life, the boy did exactly as he practiced. He drew the gun and fired once- and that was all it took. Choking on his own blood, the man went down with a hole in his throat. 


It was a horrifying experience and it changed the way he viewed life. But he couldn't deny the amount of control it'd given him over every situation. It would be awhile, but he'd do it again. He'd do it for the money in their wallets, but he soon wanted more than that. He'd ditched the gang of worthless punks now, and his dark venture into the black market began. Always money. Money for food, money for clothes, money for shelter. He needed more money. Jobs didn't pay him enough. So he started demanding. He'd soon find himself making contracts with people who wanted somebody dead, and he'd do it. Half now, the rest with the corpse. He raked in thousands for a single murder. It was invigorating. He stashed the extra and kept going, driven mad by fear of losing everything again. He hoarded money, spent little, and hunted more. It was a vicious cycle of insecurities and talent that drove him on.  

Along the way, he picked up someone's neglected pet rabbit. A Cape Hare he would call Meo became his partner in crime as he'd taught the rabbit to viciously attack any moving targets to slow them down before he could shoot. 

Witnesses spread a nickname for the hitman as his deeds became known to the public. Many referred to him as "Blackout Domani" for the phrase he'd mutter before taking someone down, and the identity police investigations had assigned him with. 

---

Italy was becoming for too unsafe for him. At seventeen years old, his track record had been on the news too long to ever show his face in public. Even though he had money now, the streets were way too prepared if he even chose to legally buy from a vending machine. 

One brisk night, he thought he was making a contract with someone. They gave him a photo, a wad of cash, a time and place. But as soon as he turned his back, the barrel of a gun was against his own head. He learned fast that he was not the best out there. Luckily, the gunman had no intent to kill him, but to guide him. There was a long discussion of an island designated for hybrids with even shittier treatment than what he got here. But on that island... there was a place he could belong. Kin to fight for, worth killing for. An actual reason to murder... protecting the innocent in an underground refuge. The pay was crap, he didn't trust this guy, and the whole idea of moving to a new country didn't appeal to him, but he knew his days in Italy were weighing down. So after a few hours to decide, he packed up the very little belongings he owned and followed this man back to Pearson, joining Black Jack's Bunny Brigade. 

It was definitely not what he expected. The people were downright nuts here. But he warmed up to it-- eventually. It took several months before he made any solid friends besides one girl, but that girl gave him everything he needed and more. He grew social because of her, allowing him to expose himself in a way he barely recognized. He made more friends as he upped through the ranks, proving himself to be a highly capable member that could protect this precious place. But he was still young... with plenty room to learn. Such as the night of Halloween one year, where he'd foolishly gotten drunk and demolished the floors of HQ, ultimately provoking the necessary move out. To this day, nobody knows how he got that demolition ball.  

The safety and sanity of this place was definitely questioned when a white gas had slipped into his room to knock him out cold one night. Being dragged up the stairs, he'd (upon waking) been told he'd just gotten promoted, despite his stupidity and frequent mistakes. A new position, they granted, called The Overcards. He became in charge of member security within the perimeter of HQ- be it from intruders or pesky quarrels among themselves. His true work in that position began after the relocation to the new HQ. 

After months of steady work, fun days and bad days, his marriage had slipped through the cracks. He can't say it was unprecedented, but the day he took off his ring was the second hardest in his life. The first, actually came later. Months later, returning from prison only to see that she'd completely moved on without him. A complete blow to his personality, on top of the gruesome days he spent with POSRA, left little for him to keep holding onto. 

▌ R E L A T I O N S

---

Ryu Kynton is intimidated by this guy's huge build, and respects him as a highly experienced elder, even if he outranks him. He considers Ryu a brother and would die to protect him.

Yullan - A bizarre and very naive medic with a stuttering problem. She's so kind that he thinks it's unhealthy for her. He feels like he knows her from somewhere... 

Desmond - The usual pain in the ass, but there's something about him that he looks up to. Reminds him of a side to himself he just can't show, he trusts Desmond and hopes he never changes.

Izaiya AKA- Little Firebender Kynton enjoys this guy's company, and considers him a cooking rival. He's noticed the little guy beginning to open up to emotions a bit, and that makes him quite happy for him.  

Vanilla - She used to be that creepy little girl that everyone hated, but she'd never messed with him so he only judged her actions from afar. Lately though, she's matured substantially, and he's grown to enjoy her company and deep talks. 

Natalya - A super cute delivery girl that helped him and Mei on their assignment before their capture. He treats and thinks of her like a little sister. 

Freya - Freya's an old friend, one he met when he'd joined the brigade. He likes her personality, and admits he missed her during her absence. Before Trita came along, he might've had a little crush on her. He thinks she's a great person all around, and doesn't doubt her capabilities.

Crystal - A distant friend he hasn't seen in a long time. He wonders how he's been. 

Stereo - The poor janitor. Poor poor janitor...

Xenon - One of the top medics in the brigade, he's grateful a guy like Xen is around to keep most of them alive, especially after the incident with Lea. 

Trita Ex-wife. Mention what they had and he'll start laughing---Then probably gut you like a fish.

Skye AKA-  Fuckin' Whackjob... He never knows what's going to come out of this guy's mouth next, and loves how shockingly absurd he can be. Although he's left the brigade, he usually spots this guy meandering the city streets living his own life. He's proud to see him like that.

Mei - A trusted friend, the only one who bore just as much suffering with the interrogations as he did. He deeply regrets being unable to help the younger comrade, but at the same time he's glad he didn't have to face this alone. 

Ma-kun - A mature guy that he doesn't know too much. Calmed him down after fighting with Lea and Aster, the guy seems mature and reasonable, and he respects him for it. Definitely more approachable than most other Trumps, he's glad somebody still has their head on their shoulders. 

Aster - Previous sparring/training session opponent, totally got his ass kicked before, so he tends not to mess with this guy. He always wonders why he's so angry all the time. Considers him a monster Pikachu. Thankful for the power outage at the detainment facilities to free the Spades. 

GiA AKA- Kiddo Adores this innocent boy to death. Considers him a little brother, he enjoys his company and making him happy. Plays around with him and has a lot of fun with it too, he can't help but envy how blissfully oblivious he is to the world around him. Regardless, if there was ever a need, he'd protect this guy like no other. 

Lea - Kynton's seemed to stop calling him nicknames lately, and has finally given him a formal attitude. He doesn't argue with him anymore and for whatever reason seems to have accepted his position, doing whatever he orders without question. 

---

Extra special thank you's to  for sending me exactly the kind of designs I was looking for! I combined them both! (Also thank you to and for also sending me designs to consider!<3 ) Thank you for fixing his leg LOL and thank you for adding the red accent and guiding me with redoing my shitty lines and shading. LMFAO I FEEL LIKE THIS REVAMP'S NOT EVEN MINE WOW ILU ALL THO this seriously wouldn't have been bothered without all you guys. ///ok willow ur not winning a fucking grammy stfu bye

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Kynton (c) Me: