![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() When the best friend he had ever known greeted him with a five-knuckled salutation to his right eye, he knew he'd never be able to fully trust anyone again. And now as he walks the streets with his eyes on the pavement recalling the dull pain in his face, his heart goes through the proverbial Meat-Grinder of Life.............. |
There is a grin and nothing much else to seperate Hidaka Ken from the average guy. No distinquishing features or marks or scars... Unless you count the skingrafts along his abdomen and back where the fire had licked his skin into ash. He should have died then, died to spare himself from further humiliation. Grey eyes and dark hair, not even old enough to legally drink, Ken is the human pheonix. Child and pet friendly, this florist moonlights as an assassin, his life holding no other meaning, no other wonder than to beat out his frustration with clawed fists. The Siberian. Kenbear and little Mother Hen to the world....if he's not trying to bathe in your blood, that is.
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