|"Young Sir Death"|
|Portrayed by||Allan Hyde|
|Full name||Thomas Hadley Kroner|
|Date of birth||December 1st, 1991|
|Place of birth||Manhattan, New York City|
|Current Location||New York|
|Occupation||Trust fund child|
|Parents|| David Fredrick Kroner (Father)|
Alice Estelle Kroner (Mother)
|Siblings|| Davey Kroner (Older brother)|
Samantha Kroner (Twin sister)
|Other relatives|| Aurore Lecqlerq (Grandmother)|
Elinor Gudfred (Ancestor)
|“||The sick fuck was enjoying this; enjoying the game he had made of killing and maiming. Jack had done some fucked up things in his life but, yeah, this kinda took the gold in the messed up psychopath Olympics.||”|
–Jack Daniels, "The Devil Came Down To Georgia"
Thomas is a wealthy, spoiled and overindulgent Manhattan teenager with the power to manipulate Life-Force. Deceptive, nihilistic and manipulative to boot, there are few lines that they boy won't cross for the sake of "having a bit of fun", and with an Aptitude as potentially powerful and dangerous, there's no telling how far along the road to damnation he might end up.
Early Life EditThomas Hadley Kroner was born into a world that few wouldn’t envy. On the day of his christening, the rows of seats in the church read like a who’s who of America’s rich and famous, and the names Vanderbilt, Rothschild and Du Pont became a regular feature at each and every one of the birthday parties of his childhood. Since age three he’d had a sizable staff at his disposal that worked exclusively for him, not his parents or his older brother, the family’s golden boy David, whom he came to hate over the years, and he was given everything he wanted without question.
Ever since those days most people who know Thomas in a formal environment have learned to regard him as the perfect type of younger child. While the older David Jr. would carry on the family’s legacy, the younger Tommy could grow up to carve out a legacy of his own, and certainly most people deemed him quite capable of such a thing, even as a child. He was always well-spoken, cultured and pleasant. That was just a lie.
The real “Tom” was nothing like the “Tommy” the adults had made him out to be. Even as a child he always stood one step above everyone else in the makeshift social ladder that the children of the wealthy styled for themselves. He’d always looked down on everyone just because he could, because that’s what his family had shown him through the myriad of attentions he’d been swarmed by since the day of his birth. Arrogance cannot be passed on genetically, but it can be easily groomed into a person when they’re of the privileged kind, and few were more privileged than Tom; none to his eyes.
Even as a child he showed a penchant for disorder, doing things that most other kids would consider dangerous, like wandering all the way down to Times Square from Park Avenue when he was only five in the middle of the night, or taking his mother’s jewelry and using it to “style-up” the family’s dogs before letting them loose in Central Park; more than half a million thrown away in a single summer morning. And of course, he showed an even greater talent for denying it all. “Oh! I told them I didn’t want to go, but they wouldn’t listen”, “I’m sorry, Mommy, I couldn’t take the pearl necklace from Toby’s mouth”, “I tried to grab the cat before he ran into the street, but the bus got to him first”.
Not once did it occur to his parents that “Little Tommy” could be lying to them. He always made a point of painting himself as a hero or a victim and turning suspicion away, and since they were the only ones to whom he truly owed any explanations for his actions, no one else could question the veracity of his claim without causing uproar. In the world of the wealthy, the word of the patriarchs is the one least questioned. Those who know him for what he truly is chalk it up to boredom, or just plain malice, but there are a few, those that like to keep their stares on Tom from the distance, who say it all started precisely because his parents would always believe his words, so he was always challenged to do worse and worse things just to see if he could outsmart them again; or perhaps he just wanted the attention that was devoted to the family’s firstborn and made him feel abandoned. Who knows? Tom’s surely not going to tell anyone which one it is.
As he grew older he became more dejected, more jaded with the life of the wealthy, with the proprieties and the boredom that were attached to all the money. He didn’t care about dinners and balls and birthday parties where the Mayor could take a picture with his father or his friends’ parents; all he truly wanted was fun, and all that parsimonious atmosphere would only end up choking the life out of him. So he decided to drive the whole “good son” act one step further. Instead of doing mischief in his own privileged world and hiding it behind smiles and apologies, he would act as he was supposed to before then, and leave his fun and games from the world outside.
And so, taking his mother’s jewelry or throwing her cat in front of a bus at age five turned into filling a bouncer’s pockets to let him inside a club, paying a group of bums to stalk and mug a schoolmate he didn’t like, or going to a dealer and buying a gram of coke by age fifteen, just in time for a night at the Opera. But eventually even that began to lose its luster. Getting high or drunk or smoking in front of a cop in the middle of 5th Avenue before handing him over a wad of cash to keep his mouth shut from the back seat of a limo was hardly entertaining.
But then he found something even better.
Just a few weeks before his eighteenth birthday, the boy learned that he was far more precious and special than anyone had ever cared to tell him. He picked up a girl from a club like he used to. A bimbo model from some Eastern European country, “rescued from the clutches of communism by her savior the agent, so long as she agreed to blow him every other night”. Normally he’d know better than to go after a glorified hooker, but this time Tom said “why not?” He had “Little Tommy” to deal with the mess, if there was any.
They went to a hotel, though not before the obligatory phone call and quick meeting with the dealer, snorted a few lines, had a few bottles of vodka which she claimed the Russians had stolen from her people centuries ago, and then, when their minds were about as lost as they would ever be without making them lose consciousness, they proceeded to do what trust fund children do in hotel rooms with Eastern European model with poor English language skills. And then, it happened.
At first he thought he had finished, because in fact it kind of felt like that, but then, in the middle of moans and pants he opened his eyes to see her face and realized she was gasping for breath like she was being choked. But he wasn’t doing anything. His hands weren’t even on her. Then he felt it again, that rush. It was like all the drugs he’d ever taken combined with a bottle of Absinthe, and then some, tensing his body for what felt like a decade of pleasure. As it relaxed, he turned his eyes on her again and noticed that she wasn’t moving. She was barely breathing at all, her muscles were limp and her skin had turned to a sickly pale. He stood up, put on his clothes and left the room, heading straight for the emergency staircase and leaving the hotel through a back door.For the following the three days Thomas was a wreck. He thought she had OD’d or that perhaps he had done something to her while they were all “gone”; curiously, though, many of his thoughts went along the lines of “I should’ve done something with the body” or “Thank God I used a fake name when I registered at the Hotel”. But then, one night he ran into her at a fashion show; she didn’t seem to recognize him, however.
Strange things began to occur over the following days. The leaves from a tree suddenly shriveling and falling as he walked by it, a cat hissing at him from a second floor window that fell limp on the asphalt after he sneered at it for a few moments; but the most incredible thing occurred when he picked up a dying pigeon from the marbled floor of his room’s balcony just moments after it had crashed against a window. He grabbed the bird as if by instinct knowing it was bound to die, but as soon as he touched it Thomas felt weak, fatigued, like he would be in the aftermath of a night of clubbing. The bird, however, flew away. It was then when he knew what he had done, when he knew what he could do. He’d always heard stories at the bars about people who could do strange things like fly or make fire burst from their hands, but not once had he considered that there could be some truth to the tales.
As his birthday drew closer he made a few tests; a couple nightly walks through Central Park, an “impromptu” visit to the zoo, a few casual encounters with some bums. The morning after the New York Post’s headline read “Mysterious deaths of animals at Central Park Zoo”, or “Beggar found comatose near Columbus Circle”.
Thomas liked reading those. They made him smile.
Personality EditOn the surface, Thomas –Tommy to his relatives, Tom to close acquaintances– has always appeared as the typical Upper East Side trust fund child: arrogant, shallow, entitled and mostly unreflective. However, he had always been mostly harmless… up until recently, that is. Surrounded by luxury and attended to through nothing but pleasantries, the boy has grown overindulgent and jaded in his adolescence, and of course, this has led to an almost unheard of degree of insolence for a person his age. He has not the slightest ounce of respect or fear of any figures of authority; from his parents and teachers to law enforcement personnel, he believes, and has confirmed on repeated opportunities, that by virtue of his last name and his wallet he can stomp on anyone and everyone who stands in his way without consequence. Whether this stands true for every case, however, remains to be seen. Surprisingly, though, this facet of his self rarely ever shows through.
The boy is extremely underhanded, almost dangerously so, able to project whichever type of demeanor suits the situation and his whims best. To his family he styles himself passive and polite, almost to a fault; to his so-called friends he projects the more domineering side of himself, calling on and dismissing them to his leisure, and to those who strike his fancy he can appear as pleasant and likable as he wants to be, all aided by uncanny eloquence. Woe to those that get on his bad side, however; a teenager which such an attitude and resources is not an enemy that one can take lightly, even if one is an adult. Nonetheless, even a chameleonic demeanor can only do so much.
Intimidation is the name of his favorite game. When kind words and persuasion do not suffice, Thomas is not above recurring to more poignant approaches to certain situations of his life. A few well-placed calls here and there, a passing threat whispered in middle of a crowded hallway, a picture or two of things one wouldn’t like other people to know about, a backhanded remark in the middle of dinner, an “anonymous tip” to law enforcement, or a few “additions” to a person’s medical history. There’s almost nothing Thomas will not turn to in favor of obtaining whatever he wants from someone (aided by his connections and money), or at least there was until recently, since now it may well hold true that he has absolutely no restrictions by virtue of his transformation. To him, everything –and everyone– is plaything.
So little does he care about things, with the exception of those that obsess him in a passing fancy, that the boy has turned into a creature of pleasures. Frighteningly precocious, Thomas has already indulged in several vices that would make those of a celebrity appear rather tame. There are virtually no hallucinogens that he hasn’t tried by the time of his eighteenth birthday; he can drink alcohol like water, smokes like an industrial chimney, has been through more girls –and some boys– than he cares to count or remember, and has even sat through a game of Russian Roulette a couple of times; yet he is in surprisingly good physical health. Now, however, there’s a new addiction that has his grip, something more intense than any of those things, and far more dangerous: the rush of Life-force.
Appearance EditOf average height, Thomas stands at five feet and eight inches (5’8”) and weighs one-hundred and thirty-two pounds (132lbs). He has a well-toned, athletic type of frame with a fair amount of muscle and little fat. His hair is dirty blond, short and relatively unkempt-looking, though this is mostly done on purpose. His skin is of a unusually pale complexion , on account of both the nightly habits that come with his lifestyle and his ability, and his eyes are of a blue-green hue (changing to argent when his power is in use), the stare deep and predatory, somewhat intimidating at times. A straight nose, defined eyebrows, slightly defined chin, proportioned ears and thin, dry lips make up his “baby face” looks that usually attract stares. He has several tattoos as well: one on his upper chest, two on both upper arms and one running along his spine from the back of his neck all the way down to the lower back.
Overall, Thomas gives an air of “Bad-boy-Abercrombie”. He’s somewhat shorter than the more common preppy looks associated with people of his social status, but the appeal is still there. His attractiveness stands at the edge of conventionalism in that regard; the good looks are all there, but not in the way that one would expect, which makes him mesmerizing by virtue of rarity. His choice of clothing usually reflects this; while Thomas would only rarely wear something like a closely fitted Burberry polo shirt, he has a certain predilection for looser v-neck pullovers, usually in dark, earthly colors, grays and browns, if not outright black, and not too fitted blue jeans and pants of similarly neutral colorations along with matching tennis shoes or sneakers. That is not to say, however, that he won’t wear a dark polo or a t-shirt, which he does on occasion. And of course, being high-class, he has quite a collection of elegant suits and tuxes. In general his wardrobe is very wintry, something that doesn’t change even in the summer.
Life-Force Manipulation EditThomas has the ability to consciously affect the life-energy of any kind of organism by way of transference from a foreign subject to his own body and/or from his body to a foreign subject, via touch or close proximity. This transference of Life-force can be used to either heal an individual’s body or drain it of energy to heal oneself and increase one’s stamina, making it potentially deadly, though it has yet to develop to such instances. Whenever this ability is activated, Thomas’ irises, generally blue-green, turn glossy argent.
So far Thomas has discovered that he’s capable of draining the life out of any kind of plant as well as small (insects, rodents, birds) to medium-size animals (dogs, wolves, big cats, small horses), effectively killing them; larger animals (cows, large horses, bears, whales) and humans can be driven to a temporary comatose state at most –though only through continuous exposure to the ability for more than a minute, and only through direct touch.
Once the energy’s been absorbed into Thomas’ body it triggers a surge in his cellular regeneration rates and his immune system, allowing him to heal damage and cure infections and diseases that aren’t entwined in his genetic code (The extent of the healing is directly proportional to the amount of energy absorbed. If there’s no damage to be reversed, the energy causes a rush of stamina, increasing his metabolism and triggering a sensory overload, making him stronger, faster and more resilient (though nowhere near superhuman levels), but also causing a dramatic heightening of his emotions which could make him either very aggressive or very docile depending on the initial state. Thomas describes this as “life-tripping”, the ultimate high that no drug in the world could ever produce, and has become addicted to it.
Transferring energy from his body to that of another always requires touch, so it can only be done to one or two subjects at a time. The energy transferred in this manner has the same effect on foreign bodies as it does on his, driving them to a healing spur if there’s damage, or a life-tripping rush if they’re in good health.
Thomas is fairly new to his Aptitude and as such he’s not all too familiarized with it, making many of its uses still linked to his emotional state rather than his conscious will; however, at the basic levels he’s able to control it with relative ease.
Draining Life-force from a foreign body can be done through both direct touch and proximity, though the effect varies depending on each instance; the subject/s need to be standing within a radius of fifteen feet from Thomas for him to be able to remotely zap their energy, and the closer they are to him the faster and stronger the effect becomes. Subjects that stand within three feet of him lose consciousness after a few seconds, whereas those located ten feet away can withstand the effect for at least half a minute. Subjects located on the rims of the power’s range may not even faint, but they’ll still experience considerable fatigue.
However, when it comes to direct touch the victim is left to bear the full force of the ability, losing consciousness instantly and falling into a comatose torpor after a minute of continuous draining until the body has replenished its energy reserves (this can take anywhere from a few hours to a week, depending on the victims initial physical state); individuals subjected to this effect may sometimes experience short-term memory loss as well as temporary atrophy of muscles and organs upon regaining consciousness. The effects of this power are also dependent on age and vitality. The younger and better in shape the victim, the least likely they are to experience the full of effects of having their Life-force zapped.
Conversely from Life-force draining, the Life-force transference is very taxing on Thomas. Using his own energy will quickly cause high levels of exhaustion, and if done excessively it can trigger temporary organ malfunction and even lead to a coma, just like a victim of touch-induced life-force draining. Even using excess energy taken beforehand from a foreign host will still produce some fatigue.
Assignment Tracker 2.0 Edit
Psychological Profile Edit
The subject is extremely volatile and impulsive, and appears to be addicted to his ability. Negation of his power appears to have adverse effects on his physical integrity. Strong traits identified of Aggressive Narcissism concurrent with deeply-rooted signs of Antisocial Personality Disorder. Compassion and sympathy do not appear to resonate, instead prompting hostile responses in most cases.
When the subject does allow himself to be approached, changes in his demeanor indicate that he's highly adept at tergiversating facts and manipulating the interrogators to gain their favor. Upon the completion of his goals, however, he reverts to his usual self, at which point any and all subjects of his influence are demoted from the status of "tool" to that of "hindrance", which in turn makes them expendable to his eyes.
Interrogation techniques different from direct coercion have proven mostly ineffective, though the subject seems to have reacted negatively to his state of isolation. The desynchronization of his cyrcadian rhythms added to the constant state of daze caused by the administration of sedatives necessary to keep him restrained has further degraded his mind to the point of nigh-clinical insanity.
Upon escaping his containment, however, the subject appears to have regained his initial mindset, having taken the lives of eight agents in the process.
DO NOT APPROACH UNLESS UNCONSCIOUS AND/OR SUPPRESSED. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ENGAGE PHYSICALLY.
Memorable Quotes Edit
|“||You know… Some people might say it’s ill-advised to touch me when I’m all strung out like this . . . Then again, what do they know? None of them ever made it past the minute.||”|
–To Emma Roberts, "The Other Side"
|“||I’m not a freak . . . I’m a God.||”|
–To Trent Scott, "Nous Ne Sommes Pas Les Mêmes"
|“||Hmph! You’re sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? I am the one doing all the killing, and I don’t feel sorry, so what the fuck do you think entitles you to act so damn apologetic about things?||”|
–To Jack Daniels, "The Devil Came Down To Georgia"
|“||Are you intentionally overlooking the fact that you are already killing somebody? That only makes you stupid, not honorable.||”|
–To Jack Daniels, "The Devil Came Down To Georgia"
|“||Either you think you can take me down . . . or you must want to die . . .||”|
–To Mitchell Brooks, "A Not So Pretty Future"
|“||Now tell me again how dying will save me.||”|
–To Adele Couteau, "A Change To The Norm"
- Thomas' surname "Kroner" is the plural form of "Krone", Crown in the Scandinavian languages (Danish and Norwegian, specifically), which is the name of the currency of Denmark, which happens to be the country of origin of Allan Hyde, the actor who portrays the character.
- Thomas has claimed to be related by blood to the European House of Glücksburg, and specifically that Queen Margrethe II of Denmark is his "Great-aunt once removed". This is, of course, a mistake, albeit intentional and aimed at leaving the character's ancestry obscure. Were the calculations and terminology properly applied, Queen Margrethe would be his second cousin once removed, which would make King Frederick VIII of Denmark Thomas' Great-great-grandfather.