Gender: Male

Kit: Super

Location: Sacramento, California, United States


Alignment: Villain

Team: The Children of Sayang


Strength: standard (rank 1)

Agility: standard (rank 1)

Mind: standard (rank 1)

Body: standard (rank 1)

Spirit: (rank )

Charisma: (rank )


Infamy Points: 108

Personal Wins: 31

Personal Losses: 31

Team Wins: 0

Team Losses: 0

Tourney Wins: 0

Tourney Losses: 0


Status: Disabled


“Another beer and a shot of tequila, will ya?”Anthony says as he sits on his barstool trying to drink away his problems for the rest of the night. His depression grows even greater as the last several weeks have been nothing more than a downward spiral for the veteran biker. Anthony does his best to ignore everyone else inside his favorite bar, but unfortunately that does not happen as an old friend approaches him from behind.

“Hey brother, haven’t seen ya in a while! How the hell are ya?” Another biker asks as he swipes Anthony’s tequila and chugs it down his throat.

Anthony becomes agitated as his friend takes his glass. “I’m fine Jerry. Just trying to get through another night is all.” He tries to get away from his friend, by walking across the room and play some darts, but Jerry cannot take a hint as he follows right behind him watching him play. “What do you want, man? I’m not even a member of the Hellfire’s MC anymore, so why bother talking to me?”

“Look man.” Jerry says, “Just because you’re outta the club, it doesn’t mean we can't still hang out.” He leans his back up against the wall and continues with his discussion. “Besides, it’s not everyday someone survives from an explosion like that. Let alone a guy like you.”

“Fuck you, Jerry.” Anthony says while giving Jerry the middle finger and continues to play darts.

Jerry raises both of his hands up and quickly apologizes to his friend. “Alright alright, my bad. But what I’m saying is that you were a guy who had everything since you joined the Hellfire’s. You had power, respect, one of the hottest ol’ ladies any of us couldn’t get their hands on, and even became the sergeant-at-arms to our club. But that all changed, didn’t it? When you, and some of the other brothers, were assigned to watch over one of our meth labs one night and because of some crack addict broke in and spilled a few flammable beakers, the damn building blew up our entire operation.” The pretentious biker says as he pushes himself off of the wall and begins to walk over to Anthony. “But the funny thing is that, when the firefighters and paramedics pulled the charred bodies out of that building, not only did they find out you were the only one alive in there but the only thing that was burnt on you were your clothes. The rest of your body remained completely in tact. Now I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but something like that brings up two explanations for this. Either you’re the luckiest sonuva bitch on the face of the Earth…” Jerry leans in a little bit closer to Anthony, “…or you’re the one who did it.”

Anthony turns back around and points to Jerry with the three darts in his hand. “You better watch what you say, little man. Otherwise I’m gonna give you a personal acupuncture with these here darts.” Jerry steps back from Anthony as he places the darts into his pocket and walks back over to his barstool ordering up another beer. “I gave the last fifteen years of my life to the MC and just because you’re the VP, it automatically qualifies you to be my accuser? I ain’t gonna listen to that bullshit!” Anthony exclaims as he takes a chug from his beer. “As for being lucky, everything else went to shit after that. After they found that tweeker’s body, you guys wanted to blame someone so obviously I was the easiest target. You all voted to kick me outta the club, strip away my patch, and take my wheels and go home. Only problem was that there wasn’t a home to go back to when my old lady, Danielle, kicked me outta the house after telling me that I was a disgrace to the club and is about a month pregnant.”

“Ouch, didn’t see that one coming.” Jerry replied ordering himself a beer as well.

Anthony orders himself a shot of tequila as he continues to finish his story. “Now I have nothing. I just wander from place to place trying to figure out what to do now. Like a nomad lost only to search for some form of meaning.”


“Yeah, that’s a shame.” Jerry replied sarcastically, “Wow, so Danielle is knocked up. I should’ve seen that one coming since I started banging her.”

“Well that’s--WHAT?” Anthony exclaimed as he looks over to Jerry with a look of shock.

Jerry looks back at Anthony and simply smiles at him. “Oh yeah, ever since she kicked you out of your house we’ve been banging for the last week or two. Although that would explain her small pot belly around her waist, but I just thought she was getting fat.”

His expression goes from shock to anger as Anthony tightly grips his beer bottle, “You better shut your goddamn mouth right now.”

“Oh it’s okay ol’ buddy.” Jerry says patting Anthony’s shoulder, “You always were a guy who held in all of his anger. Not to mention always having a level head whenever everything feels like the world is against you.”

“True…” Anthony replied agreeing to the only thing had Jerry to say. “…but even anger, itself, has a funny way of escaping me and unleashing my fury on someone. Like what I am about to do to you, in one minute, if you don’t leave my sight.”

Jerry ignores Anthony’s threat as he laughs it off and rants on. “Sure man, ‘unleashing my fury’ kind of like the same fury I gave to your ex last night. Boy was she wild in the sack and the things she did to me…it blew my mind, and my pants, all over her fa-”


Whatever I can get my hands on

     Weapon Master: standard (rank 1)


“I said, ‘SHUT THE FUCK UP,’ JERRY!” Anthony exclaims as he shoves off the barstool and grabs a beer bottle, smashing the loud mouth directly on the nose. This starts a fight between the two as Anthony begins to beat down his former friend with his bare fists. As several other people try to break up the fight between the two bikers, it only makes things worse as Anthony grabs one of the pool sticks and begins to beat the other barflies inside the bar. Another barfly tries his best by throwing out several punches, but utterly fails as Anthony deflects the punches and uses the stick to break over the side of his face. “Come on! Who else wants to fuck the guy with the pool stick in his hands?” Anthony says as he takes a defensive stance up against the bar counter. He hears a click as Anthony turns around to see a shotgun pointed at his face from the bartender.

“Get out of my bar, man!” The bartender exclaimed as he begins to sweat from his forehead. Anthony chuckles as he drops the pool stick, takes one last shot of tequila, grabs his bottle of beer, and begins to walk out of the bar with security following right behind him.


Wheels of Steel

     Vehicle: standard (rank 1)


Anthony laughs his ass off as he is escorted outside the bar with a few of the employees shoving him out the front door. As he looks back with a slight disorientation, from all of the hard liquor that he had to consume, yells out to everyone from inside the bar in anger. “YOU KNOW SOMETHING? YOU PEOPLE WERE ALWAYS ASSHOLES ANYWAY! YOU, THE HELLFIRE’S, THIS PLACE! YOU’RE ALL A BUNCH OF FUCKING ASSHOLES!!!” Anthony turns around and stumbles toward his motorcycle. “I need don’t ‘em, I don’t need Danielle, I don’t need anyone.” He proclaims to himself as the biker hops on top of his motorcycle. After taking one last swig from his beer, Anthony tosses the bottle away and begins to slowly caress the handlebars on his bike. “You’re the only thing I need, baby. You and I have been through it all and I ain’t giving you away to anyone.” Anthony’s ride is a one-of-a-kind bike with a 2032cc twin cam engine coupled to a 6 speed transmission with a chain final drive. His bike is also a custom CFL that possesses superior handling and a unique black-and-orange color scheme with two types of color that encompasses the frame, gas tank and rear fender. As Anthony fumbles through his pockets trying to look for the keys to his bike, Jerry and one of the prospects rushes out of the bar with a 9mm pistol in hand. Jerry looks for the buzzed biker as he wipes the blood from his nose and stands in front of Anthony’s bike. “What are you looking for, a rematch?” Anthony asks as he chuckles looking at his handiwork on Jerry’s face.

“Not exactly,” Jerry replied as he raises his gun and fires two shots into Anthony’s chest.


Flak Jacket

     Armor: standard (rank 1)


“Jesus Christ, Jerry! What the hell are you doing man?” The prospect exclaims as he takes several feet back from him.

As Jerry lowers the smoking barrel of his 9mm, he looks back at the prospect with a smile across his face, “Trying to make a point that you don’t mess with a member of the Hellfire MC.”

The young prospect grips the back of his hair while trying to explain the dilemma to Jerry. “But…but he was a member too!”

Jerry looks back at the prospect in anger. “Past tense, which means that don’t mean shit to anyone anymore. Besides, I--ACK!” Jerry’s speech is interrupted as Anthony comes up from behind giving his one time member a chokehold around his neck forcing him to drop his gun. As Anthony drops Jerry to the ground to pick up his gun, Jerry gasps for air as he looks up at Anthony. “Let me guess, a vest?”

Anthony rips open his shirt to reveal his flak jacket as he pulls out the bullets from his chest. “Never leave home without it.” Anthony replied as he throws the spent bullets at Jerry and points the gun at him. “Next time you wanna kill someone up close, make sure you aim for the head.”

Jerry smiles back at Anthony with an unsettling grin across his face. “I’ll remember that.” Just as Jerry finishes his reply, Anthony hears another gun click from the back of his head. “Drop the gun!” Apparently a third party has emerged as Anthony lowers his gun to the ground and raises both of his hands. Jerry gets back up and picks up his gun as they now out number Anthony three-to-one.


Kinetic Energy (Part 1)

     Concussive Weapon: standard (rank 1)

  • Ranged Attack
  • Area Affect


“So this is how it ends, huh?” Anthony asks as he continues to keep both of his hands over his head.

His ex-friend pulls the trigger back as he smiles back at Anthony. “You got that right.”

With a smile on Anthony’s face he replies back to Jerry, “I wasn’t talking about myself.” The perplexity on Jerry’s face becomes concerned as he hears a small sizzle coming from his gun. As Jerry places his ear next to the strange noise, his gun explodes with amazing force blowing up his hand and the right side of his face. The rest of the gunmen were speechless as they look over to Jerry’s mangled corpse and back at the biker’s face. He pulls out three darts, which he left in his jacket pocket, and throws them at the remaining gunmen. Two of the darts gave off a sizzling charge and explode as they hit one of the biker’s in the stomach and the other blowing up his gun forcing him to drop it. The explosions were like hand grenades, blowing up with immense power, after Anthony touches them with his bare hands. As Anthony looks around the destruction, that he had just created, he sees the surviving prospect standing in one place while quivering in fear after what he just saw.

As Anthony walks over to the last survivor the prospect falls backwards, onto the ground, and begins pleading with him for mercy. “Please don’t kill me, man! I was just following orders is all! I didn’t sign on to kill a former member!”

Anthony chuckles to himself as he looks at both of his hands, “It’s funny world we live in. One minute you think you’re gonna die being blown up in a meth lab and the next you not only survive the blast, but you come out being a different man. I am more than a man, but something else that is entirely different. Anything I touch becomes a ticking time bomb.” Anthony kneels over and places his hand over the frightened prospect’s face. Several seconds pass as Anthony’s grin fades with disappointment and stands back up. “Ok, so it seems I can’t blow up things that have skin on them. Come to think about it, some of the organic objects that I’ve touched lately never really blew up. I guess these powers do have their limits after all.”


Kinetic Energy (Part 2)

     Concussive Weapon: superior (rank 2)


Anthony chuckles to himself as he looks at both of his hands, “It’s funny world we live in. One minute you think you’re gonna die being blown up in a meth lab and the next you not only survive the blast, but you come out being a different man. More than a man but something else entirely different. Anything I touch becomes a ticking time bomb.” Anthony kneels over and places his hand over the frightened prospect’s face. Several seconds pass as Anthony’s grin fades with disappointment and stands back up. “Ok, so it seems I can’t blow up things that have skin on them. Come to think about it, some of the organic objects that I’ve touched lately never really blew up. I guess these powers do have their limits after all.”

“Ain’t that a funny thing?” The prospect asks slowly getting back on his two feet. Anthony continues to walk over to him as the prospect raises both of his hands up to his chest. “Look Anthony, I don’t wanna die tonight. I just met this girl the other day and—” His sentence is cutoff as Anthony places his hand on his shoulder.

“I ain’t gonna kill you. Well…not tonight anyway.” Anthony replied taking his hand off of the young biker’s shoulder. “Because I need you to deliver a couple of messages to my former brothers. Tell the other Hellfire’s, and everyone one else, that I hold no particular allegiance to a specific club chapter, but I should be respected and accepted wherever I go. The second is my name; Anthony Rosenberg is dead to you people. Whenever I meet up with my brothers, I want them to call me Nomad. You think you can do that for me?” The prospect agrees to the biker’s request as the man, now calling himself Nomad, walks back to his motorcycle and starts up his ride. As Nomad is about to leave the parking lot of the bar, he slowly rides up right behind a row of cars and brushes his hand across each of the trunks. The cars begin to sizzle until blowing up with each one going off one-by-one leaving the customers inside of the bar without a way to drive home. As Nomad exits the parking lot, he looks back at more of the destruction that he is responsible for causing and smiles, “I think I’m gonna like this new gig.”