Weapons/items of choice: Flamethrower made from the finest of scrap the junkyard could provide
Personality: Rude & Quick to anger Put simply, he's a class A douchebag, no manners whatsoever. He's loud, abrasive and incredibly hot tempered. It takes almost nothing to set him off. Just breathe wrong and he'll try to set you on fire. He respects power, not authority, if you want him to listen, prove you're worth listening to. Otherwise, he'll torch your ass all the same.
Mistrusting & A Megalomaniac Due to his rather traumatic time in the care of a human master as well as his many misadventures about the city, Bain finds it very hard to trust people and rabbits alike, preferring mostly to keep to himself and tinker in the silence of the HQ (or well, what little he can find on a good day anyway). Absolutely detests others touching his things, though he has no qualms about simply taking stuff from others. Over-inflated self-esteem, delusions of grandeur; the whole shebang, makes him one insufferable ass to deal with.
Loyal with a natural affinity towards engineering Once you have his respect, he'll be loyal forever. Of course, if you do anything to betray that trust, he knows some humans down at the Chinese restaurant that would buy lightly charred rabbits for cheap. Enjoys building stuff. A lot. Almost as much as he enjoys fights. Speaking of which...
Enjoys fights. A lot.
History: Bain didn't always use to be 'Bain'. He used to be 'punk', or 'shithead', or 'dumbfuck', or any other derogatory name his owner could think to call a slave rabbit working in an auto mobile workshop. There was no such thing as 'rights' for him. Not when he couldn't read or write to let anyone know of his plight. So he suffered in silence, simmering in his rage, placating himself with working on the many mechanical wonders and waiting for the day his owner would simply fall into a ditch and die.
Pity. Fate never listened.
His owner came back to the shop one night, piss drunk and angry. And like most angry drunks, the man took it out on the closest living thing in the shop - his slave rabbit. He started whaling on the young rabbit, raining kicks and punches upon the tiny, scared little thing, but he decided that no, punching and kicking wasn't enough. No, a face stabbing was in order.
There's something about the idea of a face stabbing that appealed no practically no one, sane or otherwise and the young slave was no different. Still, he was just a tad too slow to ward off the first strike, and it got him in the eye. Enough. He'd had enough. He was done being scared. Screw this. Screw the human laws that never protected him, screw the lives and lies of every single human he'd come across. All their lives were now forfeit.
He punched his owner with all of his mutant rabbit strength, and the force of the blow dislodged the screwdriver from his socket, scratching a long gash down his face. That didn't bother him, not really. He staggered over to his owner and continued punching, and punching, and punching. He punched until his owner - ex-owner, really -'s face was more blood, mash and pulp than anything resembling a human face, and even then, he punched the meaty pulp some more.
Dawn came, and so did the police, but by then the former slave rabbit was long gone. Over the hills and far away, in a junkyard somewhere outside the city, a tiny brown rabbit runs free. He wasn't 'punk', or 'shithead', or 'dumbfuck' anymore. He was Bain. And he would stay in the junkyard for days and years to come, until he happened on that secret entrance to the base while searching the collapsed lighthouse for usable scrap.
Other: - He's blind in his left eye. - He has a million scars on his back now after a bad run in with Aster and an accident with his shitty flamethrower. - His flamethrower is out of commission at the moment, please wait warmly while he rebuilds it. It's fixed now, bring on the challengers e u e