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Welcome to Marvel: New Avengers

09:33, 29th March 2024 (GMT+0)

Mortis

Codename: Mortis
Secret Identity: Damian McBride
Height: 5'8"/6'10"
Hair: Silvery white short-cut hair with a long and wild beard/light brown with a short trimmed beard
Eyes: Right eye green with his left covered by a decorative eyepatch/Grey
Weight: 145lbs/390lbs
Build: Thin and frail/Large and muscular

History: In his frailer form, one thing is immediately clear about Damian. This man is probably too old to be in the superhero business. In his prime, Damian did the honorable thing that was expected of him and signed up for the army just in time for the US to get involved in the Second World War. A part of him would love to pretend that he served honorably and became an inspiration to the soldiers around him, but that would be a lie. Especially when during one of his first missions he was overwhelmed with fear, abandoned his assigned position, and left his fellow soldiers vulnerable which resulted in many good men losing their lives. Most humiliating, he didn't make it far before he was caught, dishonorably discharged as a deserter, and shipped back to the states to face trial.

On the plus side, he never actually had to face a court-ordered punishment for his crimes. On the negative side, that was because another group decided they had better use for someone they figured nobody would miss.

Details are a little hazy around this time. He remembers being stuck in a dark hole for months, only really seeing light and people when brought just enough food to keep him from starving. Then strange people wearing masks came for him, tied him to a table, carved markings into his flesh, and started chanting strange words that made his body feel like he was being ripped apart piece by piece. Everything went black. Then everything went white. He saw things his mind won't let him fully remember in order to spare his sanity. Then he was back in the room tied to the table, emaciated-looking and weak. He heard the chanting voices announce that he was a failure, and then one masked individual took it upon themselves to dispose of him. A flash of pain as a bullet broke through his skull. Everything went black. Then everything went white.

Then he found himself in the woods, covered in blood, wielding an expired cultist like a club in a new powerful form he barely understood and holding a medallion. Then his chest hurt. Everything went black. Then everything went white.

For the last few decades, Damian has kept himself out of the spotlight. Learning. Studying. Investigating every thread he could to learn more about what he was now and what he had become. What he was capable of. One side of him lives a much more modest life as a museum curator, a simple job that pays well and gives him an excuse to learn more about the cult that changed him. Only in recent years has he started making more public appearances as the people he pursues, the people who made him what he is, start to become more brazen with their actions. Maybe now it was time to stop hiding and to do more to make sure the people that tortured him and those like them won't hurt anyone else.