Name: Acre Lorraine
Age: 26
Appearance: Wears dirty, mostly torn blue jeans, a green shirt, and a dirty old leather bomber pilot jacket with a kevlar vest badly sewn on. His scraggly brown hair could definately use some work. When he's not wearing a blue spray painted gas mask, people can see his green eyes.
Personality: Not the happiest camper, expects the worst and gets it. Very unlikely to hesitate with a finger on the trigger, unless it's a dog. He will not hurt a dog unless the alternative hurts other dogs. (no not a chee, but he'd love to meet them)
Bio: Meet Acre, he may be a pessimist, but if he's doing a job, he won't stop. If you ask him if he's ready, he'll probably answer no as he steps into the firing range. In fact, it's happened several times. No super soldier by any means, he was deemed good enough to receive the morphing power. Which he immediately used to go away. Acre is no coward, but he hates being the one dealing with problems. So he turned tail(literally) and disappeared into the wilderness. Unfortunately he had little training and spent most time sick, or unconscious. Later he would refuse to eat anything not cooked by someone semi competent. After a few months, he grew bored and joined a small cult. He was pretty sure the cult was insane but then again, he didn't know what they believed. After several years of learning the art of being a cultist, he left. Or was forced to leave depending on who you ask. He just felt it was time to leave after he set the place on fire with a strange collection of chemicals. As of this point, he's looking for a place to stay.
Special Characteristics: Morph ability: golden retriever, black labrador, alaskan malamute, wolf, ****roach, fly, kangaroo, platypus, buckeye hawk