Dramacow Gabe Navarro / Moleman9000 / MolemanNineThousand / ResonX - 13 bans on Wikia

Exactly how many Wikis has he been banned from?
Pretty much he's banned from most of the wikis he frequently visited, such as the Villians Wiki, ERBOH wiki etc.

Also, time for a hugbox chronicle!

While the Villains Wiki drama was happening, our hero @Moleman9000 was also persuading the ERBOH wiki admin regarding his ERBOH wiki ban on the Community Wikia. And hoo boy, he's been doing this for 1 month. Yes, 1 fucking month. It shows how sad he is.

Part 1: (Yes, one post is not enough)

1. Unban me! This is not cool!
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:782695
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2. Stop trying to reject my point that what you are doing is conceding to bullying and is unacceptable.
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:782727
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3. Molay is literally posting to an admin that he has no right to tell him to change his identity. (Also, muh rights)
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:783020
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4. If all else fails, use TWO accounts to persuade him! That'll show him!
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:784024
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5. Moleman: Master of Logic
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:784025
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6. I thought you're my friend ;_;
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:784039
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7. STOP SHUTTING ME OFF
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:784077
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8. STOP IGNORING ME
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:791142
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9. Molay Tries It: Crying Over Dislikes In His Video (no srsly, he's crying over that)
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:791407
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10. Molay then requests for a ban on the ERBOH wiki admin. top fucking lel.
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:791894
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Part 2:

"Literally no one on the wiki is happy with your presence. You attract trolls, break the rules set for you, and harrass the staff. Tell me how any of this "generates positivity for your name". - WonderPikachu12
11. Seriously he made another fucking Wikia account just to conversate with him. From what I see he literally has 10+ Wikia accounts right now. No this is not an exaggeration.
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:791890
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12. ALL BOLD MAKES YOU UNDERSTAND ME
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:791921
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13. After all that shit, he finally gets a response from another wiki admin to tell him to knock it off.
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:792359
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14. (WARNING: EXTREMELY LONG) Nah, he still never learns. After all, he's deeply shocked and offended by the ban.
http://community.wikia.com/wiki/Thread:802638
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Btw, I got plenty more stuff to post about our hero Molay, so please stay tuned.
 
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Should we unban Moley now? Sooner or later he'll come back.
 
Man he provided some great content here. Back when I used to just lurk and wasn't following Jace and Tyce as closely he was my favorite Cow. That call with Null (and all of his interactions with Null in general) were golden.
 
Man he provided some great content here. Back when I used to just lurk and wasn't following Jace and Tyce as closely he was my favorite Cow. That call with Null (and all of his interactions with Null in general) were golden.
Ivan Komarov has his phone number, so if you want to see him come back all it takes is a PM and we can all ring the Gaben. Guy's gotten off too light these past few months, we need another summer 2013 happening.

Also I have a lot of the vocarooed calls from IRC saved, might put them on Mega, shit's topkek. "EXPLAIN HOW THAT IS NOT SADISM".
lel some weirdo who barely talks thinks the autistic button is a downboat.
 
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Ivan Komarov has his phone number, so if you want to see him come back all it takes is a PM and we can all ring the Gaben. Guy's gotten off too light these past few months, we need another summer 2013 happening.

Also I have a lot of the vocarooed calls from IRC saved, might put them on Mega, shit's topkek. "EXPLAIN HOW THAT IS NOT SADISM".
.
Put those on actually! I'd be interested as hell to hear them! I probably wouldn't call him myself unless I had a solid character in mind with a reason to call him and could contribute any humor, but that would be fun to listen to.
 
Also I have a lot of the vocarooed calls from IRC saved, might put them on Mega, shit's topkek. "EXPLAIN HOW THAT IS NOT SADISM".
lel some weirdo who barely talks thinks the autistic button is a downboat.
Yes, please.
Also, the prank calls from the defunct subforum were deleted from Vocaroo long ago - if you still have them, please upload them too.
 
I'm gonna make this post real quick, which is Moleman's accounts on Wikia thus far:

Confirmed Moleman9000 Accounts: ResonX, Moleman9000, MolemanNineThousand, ResonXYZ, BennyCupster, BackerUpper2, DummyTheNext, BackerUpperSimple, BackerUpper3, ContactorXXB, MERB
Possible Accounts: Nonsense1234, Unimportant10, Some dude you may know or not

Poor ol' DudeWithASuit has to deal with all the socks Moleman has to make.

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I still remember how paranoid Moleman was at Deviantart back in the day. All it took to be called out as a "cyberbully" was a
visit to his profile. (premium members can see the names of 5 last visitors)
 
Making this one quick as well, as Molay made another Tumblr account and registered another account on the ERBOH forum.

New Tumblr blog: http://molemanninethousand.tumblr.com/ (Yep, @Moleman9000 is a genius at thinking up names)
He abandoned his old Tumblr blog, resonx.tumblr.com for some reason. All of his Tumblr posts on his current blog so far only have literally0-1 notes.

If you want to see his thoughts on his first 3 rap battles, here you go:
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And nothing too special, here's his new ERBOH forum account: http://www.erboh.com/forum/member.php?3383-MERB

Currently, he's uploading his Navaverse artwork to his Shadowness account: http://shadowness.com/Moleman9000/

He also made a new FanFiction account too, but all he does is just making "epic" rap battles: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5336245/MolemanNineThousand
 
2 things
1. He's got a chat on his Wiki now (Only like 3 people go on there though)
2. (I'd post this on the MERB thread but it's basically abandoned) He's gonna have AT LEAST 2 Off seasons in Season 3: Remake of Panty and Stocking vs Powerpuff Girls and (I think) Korra vs Female Commander Shepard
 
I still got a few more to post:

https://plus.google.com/116104265714141559445/posts He had yet another Google+ account:
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In case you're wondering about his godawful background featuring his Pooh's Adventures Epic Rap Battles characters, here's the full image he posted on Flickr: (WARNING: It's over 10 MB)
http://i.imgur.com/OCJgoG9.jpg

And oh boy, it appears that he is continuing his Navaverse project.

1. Nava-Verse Hero Biography: Joinkhaah "Maniac" Manneil
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Joinkhaah "Maniac" Manneil is a currently–living Joiemgaw born on the twentieth day of the Ninth Cycle of Age 810 as the second child of a lower–middle–class family who took up the profession of mechanics and metalworking at a younger age than that at which most others of his race begin seriously dabbling in their eventual careers and quickly proved himself to be a prodigy in the field. Upon discovering this knack, Joinkhaah Manneil subsequently dedicated himself to his craft, improving his skills further and eventually rising through the ranks of society and above his fellow aspiring metalworkers until he, at the young age of twenty–four, had founded and successfully established his own private manufacturing corporation, Manneil Metallics. In the Fifth Cycle (the most active business season on Wegneheck) of Age 836, not long after its initial rise to prominence, Manneil Metallics was made an official partner of the greater, Prime Galaxy–wide Joiemgaw Media Corporation (specifically the mega–conglomerate's engineering branch), and Manneil himself an official major shareholder and executive of said corporation, placing him in the top ten percentiles within the top single percentile of the overall Joiemgaw population in terms of wealth, power and fame.

For the next few years, Joinkhaah Manneil lived in comfortable luxury and laziness, more–so than the average Joiemgaw in his position would, while his business continued to prosper and with the tycoon himself no longer doing any more manual work of his own since scoring the deal which had ensured that he would be set for life and eventually ceasing to even actively oversee his company's production processes. Then, during the exuberant celebration of his thirtieth birthday, Manneil experienced a traumatic brush with death. His party was crashed by a gunman, a vengeful close relative of a lower–class person who had been killed as a result of a faulty vehicle produced under the Manneil name, which the unfortunate victim, the nephew of the eventual gunman, had just barely been able to afford. The automobile had been produced subsequent to the point at which the company's founder, a self–made man who had initially gotten to where he was through hard work and dedication, had ceased all active participation in the production of his business' products. The attacker had previously sued Manneil Metallics for his nephew's death, but failed to get anyone convicted, to win any reparations and even to make the incident widely–known publicly, all due to the efforts of Manneil's quick–acting and highly corrupt lawyers and publicists, who had shot both the court case and the potential scandal down with Joinkhaah Manneil's only direct role in their actions being a proverbial rubber–stamping. Note that the gunman was, rather conveniently, "honorable" enough to announce his motives during the attack in just about as coherent a manner as one could while committing mass homicide, saving officials most of the trouble they would otherwise have had to go through to figure out said motives.

The resulting shootout left six dead, these fatalities consisting of the gunman plus five aristocratic clients of Manneil Metallics, and eight wounded, these injured including Manneil's older sister and Joinkhaah Manneil himself, both of whom were shot in the head and rendered comatose. Joinkhaah's sister, Splindink, with whom he was (and still tries to be) very close, remained unconscious for three cycles and, upon waking up, had suffered serious brain damage, including memory loss, from which she is unlikely to ever fully recover. Manneil himself, meanwhile, woke up a mere eight days after the attack, and was considered to have made a full recovery soon thereafter, but was in fact a greatly changed man. Shortly after learning all that had happened and returning to his then–nonexistent duties as head of Manneil Metallics, Joinkhaah delivered a public address announcing that he was now a born–again follower of God and would from this point onward personally work to restore consistent quality control to his company's products while abandoning and renouncing his previous hedonistic lifestyle that he believed had led to the recent tragedy.

Despite initial, widespread and understandable, given that the shooting had brought the incident which motivated the perpetrator, as well as the executive's recent history of laziness and carelessness, to public light, doubts and insinuations of the contrary, Manneil meant all of this. He would soon prove this by immediately reforming both his company and his own personal behaviors, returning to direct, manual metalworking to the point of working part–time in assembly lines alongside the lowliest of his employees, and never relapsing back into the negligent lack of input that had led to the accident which had led to the shooting that had led to his epiphany which had led to his present reform.

Now, the "story" of Joinkhaah Manneil could very well have ended, in regards to major events and contributions concerning him, right here, being a simple inspirational and heartwarming tale of redemption, etc.

It did not.



The wealthy Joiemgaw, in his efforts for atonement and self–reinvention, went much further than this, and indeed, further than anyone had initial reason to expect.

Starting in early Age 841, Manneil, a completely average specimen of his kind in terms of physical strength for most of his life up to this point and rather out–of–shape due to his laziness over the past few years which he had just recently given up, began practicing a self–imposed regimen of daily, heavy exercise which soon intensified further and escalated into bodybuilding. In time, his physical condition came to match his level of societal status; that is to say, it was now in the top fraction of the highest one percentile among all Joiemgaws, which are generally not known for physical prowess. Joinkhaah's personality also began to change further beyond its initial shift toward altruism, evolving into something arguably less purely good yet also arguably more actively heroic and inarguably more awesome. While becoming noticeably more eccentric and bombastic in public appearances, he began demanding that he be given total privacy while working in his studio, an activity which he seemed to spend more and more time doing daily with each passing twenty–four–hour period, and eventually declared the studio off–limits at all times to anyone and everyone but himself. Concurrently, many strange, large orders calling for various, often obscure and rare, supplies and raw materials were personally made and paid for in full by Manneil, whose publicists took efforts, this time on direct orders from their boss, to keep these orders on a low profile while the providers were likewise paid generous amounts of interest for not making news of them.

This strange behavior and secret activity continued, and somewhat escalated, for almost two years, throughout which Joinkhaah Manneil, in spite of all the strange – downright suspicious, even – things he was now doing on the side, still ran and oversaw the core operations of his business just as he had promised he always would; he had become an extraordinarily busy and active man. Public rumors of him going insane or even planning some violent atrocity such as a bombing made the typical rounds that most rumors do during this period of time, but these never gained enough leverage to receive significant media attention or warrant any official investigations of Manneil's person and property.

The truth was finally revealed, unveiled by Manneil himself, on his own thirty–second birthday. The date of his birth now being shared with that of the tragedy that had altered his life and several others', it had seemed that any and all future celebrations of Joinkhaah Manneil's birthday would be tainted by memories of the shooting, and indeed, he himself had wisely refrained from holding any public festivities on his thirty–first birthday, A.K.A. the shooting's first anniversary. For his "sweet sixteen–times–two", however, he appeared to be "making up" for this, preparing a bigger party than any he had previously thrown and inviting more people than ever before, even including some low–level manual workers of Manneil Metallics whom he had chosen based on a raffle. When the eve of Manneil's birthday and of the party arrived, the turnout was disappointing, with many of those invited failing to show up, in most cases due to bad memories regarding the shooting two years ago, concerns regarding the host's strange behavior and reclusive activities as of late, or a combination of both factors. This, however, did not discourage Manneil from doing his best to thrill and wow those who did attend with the reveal of the bonafide arsenal of personalized, optimally–modified munitions, equipment and conveyances that he had created for use in his coming adventures.

As he explained both to those relative few who were there to see the initial, formal unveiling and to a wider audience in a public announcement the following day, Joinkhaah Manneil had been inspired by the recent "superhero" movement, the foundations of which had been laid by the Mulshian Fire–Egg starting roughly one hundred years prior, and intended to join in on it, having planned to do so since shortly after his initial post–coma epiphany but only now being fully prepared to begin his heroic endeavors in earnest. He had spent the majority of the past two–year period drafting, crafting and perfecting the array of equipment he would now make use of as a galaxy–traveling noble mercenary whose deeds would better the name and reputation of Joiemgaw–kind and whose earnings would all go towards Manneil Metallics' production funds, further bolstering the company's reliability both practically and "symbolically".

Initial reactions to these announcements were, predictably, of a sentiment that can be accurately summarized with the following statement, which was printed word–for–word in multiple publications: "It is official: Manneil has lost it." Numerous Manneil Metallics shareholders began withdrawing their investments, while the company's general market performance started declining almost immediately. Joinkhaah's public appointment, in the form of a responsible up–and–coming businessman working in his field and being similar to how he himself had been as a younger man, of a potential successor in the case of his being killed while out adventuring, a scenario that the debuting hero–to–be considered unlikely and said as much of, did little to help the situation. Regardless, Manneil was not discouraged, and determined that he would prove those who doubted the feasibility of his being a viable adventurer wrong.

Surprisingly enough, he actually managed to follow through.



Since around the start of Age 843, Joinkhaah Manneil, whose preferred moniker in regards to his adventures is "Maniac Manneil", has been active as one of the Prime Galaxy's most prominent "superhero" mercenaries, and possibly the most successful and longest–operating non–mutant among the various adventurers that have taken after the example originally set by the Eggmen over the past century. To this day, he continues frequently touring both Wegneheck and various other venues throughout space, performing acts of bombastic, gadgetry–assisted heroism and using the money he demands and receives in exchange for his good deeds toward constructive purposes within his business, which he still manages competently, to continue ensuring that it remains the best, most stable and reliable company it can possibly be. Following its owner's initially surprising just about everyone by proving to be a capable interplanetary champion and not getting killed, Manneil Metallics rose back up from the pits of recession almost as quickly as it had fallen into them in the wake of the widespread belief that said owner had gone completely insane, and has continued flourishing ever since. Maniac Manneil's heroics have also helped improve the long–dubious reputation of Joiemgaws in general in the eyes of many other peoples, which was another stated original goal of his. He has killed more than one hundred people, all of them violent criminals, grievously injured several hundred more, almost all of them violent criminals, and verifiably saved several thousand lives while never killing a single innocent and only ever injuring a few, each of whom he has voluntarily paid massive reparations to. On a related note, there has never been another fatal accident involving a Manneil Metallics machine that has been deemed to be the fault of the company rather than of any user since the deadly automobile malfunction which led to the fateful birthday shooting.

Manneil has, in his case unfortunately, inspired several other Joiemgaws, all of considerably lesser wealth and skill than he, to attempt imitating him without undergoing the same long–term preparations and training firsthand and without having access to the same caliber of equipment, resulting in most of these copycats being swiftly and ignominiously slain in the field of action. The man himself, though, has always made clear his disapproval of those who would emulate his extremely dangerous activities, stressing repeatedly that what he does has required, and continues to require, years of dedicated, hard work, genuine passion and top–notch resources, a notion that the two years he spent training and preparing for his superhero career before actually starting it can always attest to. Today, Maniac Manneil is still considered to be the only "true" Joiemgaw superhero out there, and he is also considered the most famous Joiemgaw currently alive as well as one of several roughly equal contenders for the distinction of being the wealthiest member of his kind, with his estimated net worth being more than 100,000,000,000 Galactic Common.

Very recently (that is, within the past three years), it has been theorized more widely than ever before that Joinkhaah "Maniac" Manneil's eventual transformation from the corrupt and slothful executive he had become during the years leading up to the shooting that changed his life forever into the audacious, muscular adventurer he is known as today may have been the result not only of epiphany but of a form of brain damage resulting from the piece of shrapnel that had entered his head and whose effects came with a delay. In other words, more and more evidence seems to suggest as of late that he really is insane in at least some form. Maniac Manneil himself has been informed of this possibility, but has dismissed it – not as untrue, necessarily, but as irrelevant. He maintains a strong sense of pride for the way he is now, believing his current way of life as a hero–for–hire to be the destined and ultimate realization of his potential as a person and stating that even if trauma–induced mania is involved, few can argue against the notion that the end result has ultimately changed him for the better and is, furthermore and in Manneil's own words, "totally cool, awesome and badass".

And indeed, one would be hard–pressed to find any significant number of people who would argue against that notion.



• On Maniac Manneil's arsenal of equipment that he relies upon throughout his heroic exploits, it was, again, all personally built by him over a period of roughly two years and utilizing levels of technology so advanced and materials so top–quality that the resulting creations could never be viably mass–produced due to being too costly and time–consuming to make. His array of paraphernalia includes various weapons, both lethal and somewhat less–lethal, specialized armors with features such as heat–resistance and water–breathing apparatuses, gadgets for almost any situation, such as infrared and X–ray goggles, automatic door–unlocking devices and a jetpack, and multiple vehicles. Most of these items are based in some way upon the foundations of previously–existing technologies, though Manneil's versions are, without exception, all personalized in some unique way and altogether functionally superior to their original, more common counterparts. There are a few exceptions; that is, completely original and unique creations of Maniac Manneil, however, and the most notable of these is the machine that is considered the mercenary's signature vehicle and "trump card" and which has been selected from among all the items in his armory to be showcased here alongside the man himself.

This machine is the "Mannserker", a three–story–tall armored tank with the rough likeness of a very angry–looking Joiemgaw. This heavily–armed battle mech sports what Joinkhaah refers to as a "composite" aesthetic design, with his biggest source of inspiration while designing it and its "face" in particular coming from his sister, Splindink, whose initial awakening from her coma had overjoyed him, even with her being in a mentally incomplete state, and helped give him the initiative to fully commit himself to his until–then–only–contemplated pursuit of a greater, grander purpose in life. While incorporating elements of his sister's visage into the tank's appearance, though, Manneil did not directly model the Mannserker's Joiemgaw likenesses on Splindink alone, instead opting to give the machine a more unique, "independent" appearance that also incorporated some of his own features as well as a few "random" creative details not specifically borrowed from anyone or anything in particular.

Joinkhaah Manneil currently continues to keep the designs and blueprints for all of his equipment, including and especially the Mannserker, strictly classified to everyone besides himself, and has said numerous times that the secrets to replicating his powerful creations will not be made available to any outside party until after he is dead.

2. Nava-Verse Hero Biography: Denfumia
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"Bloody" Denfumia, also known for a time as "The Drainer", was a mutant Wabacawler female who was born with an "advanced", uniquely ravenous form of vampirism, as opposed to the "mild", benign form of vampirism that afflicts every other member of her kind. Before proceeding, do be warned that her life story is, in the most literal way possible, the bloodiest by far among those of all "superheroes", to the point of being a horror story in some ways. Indeed, the term "superhero" seems a rather inappropriate one for her; perhaps "folk hero" or even "anti–hero" might be better, though many would argue that labeling her as any sort of "hero" is overly generous. Even if one considers her a flat–out "villain", though, it cannot be disputed that Denfumia stands as an extremely unique, notable and very much "super" individual among her race. She is also one of the few modern "superheroes", insomuch as she "counts" as one, known specifically not to have been consciously inspired by the Eggmen in any way, as well as the youngest ever in terms of when her "career" started. Despite her never once leaving her homeworld in her life, her legend has by now spread throughout most of the Prime Galaxy just like those of adventurers who traveled between and operated on many different planets.

Denfumia came into this world in mid–Age 789, born to an aristocratic couple with distant connections to the Wabacawler royal family and residing near the heart of Finngaed's capital of Nasfrott, in a sparkling sunlit birthing ceremony (a semi–common practice among Wabacawler nobility). During the delivery process, severe complications unexpectedly arose, ultimately resulting in an impromptu incision procedure having to be performed on the mother to safely remove the child, whose abnormalities were fully apparent from the moment she was ripped from the womb, this being especially so given the ceremonious circumstances of her birthing. Rather than harmlessly, "beautifully" (the alleged brilliance of the phenomenon is considered highly subjective and disputed among non–Wabacawlers) glistening in the rays of Brighis as expected, the newborn's flesh began to smolder and blister in the sunlight as she was held up into it. All present quickly rushed out of the sunlit dome theater and back under the shaded roof of the hospital, where the baby, as it "cooled down" and recovered, could be examined, confirming what everyone bearing witness had immediately, instinctively feared upon seeing it starting to burn under the sun. The infant's skin was pale, cold, clammy, her teeth and nails abnormally sharp, and covering her back was a "cape" of several leathery plumes… instantly recognizable in their alikeness to those characteristic of the Xamenrufs, the other, decidedly more malicious vampiric race spatially distant from but culturally familiar to the Wabacawlers. It was clear that the child was not only a mutant (almost any lesser form of which would have been far more tolerated), but one whose "special" trait constituted Wabacawler–kind's most dreaded nightmare which hadn't been present outside of ancient lore and myth since further back than any among the race could look back to: pure, unmitigated, unbridled, malignant vampirism… the kind that would make her specifically crave the blood of people, rather than just animals.

Over the following hours, and as the nature of the mutation was verified on a scientific level, the mother of the infant who had not yet been given the name Denfumia went dark from a combination of the physical shock of having been cut open and the psychological and emotional shock of finding her baby to be a monster. Despite the subsequent efforts of the various doctors and other hospital staff, several more of whom had arrived on the scene as the overall incident had continued to develop, she would never wake up. At the end of the day, and with all things, all options, having been considered, the doctors all came to the painful–to–reach but logically sound consensus that the mutant baby be put down… a decision that became clearer, somewhat easier to make, for them after the newborn violently bit into the hand of one of the nurses. However, despite all of these recommendations, the father, visibly heartbroken and mortified at the loss of his wife, defiantly opted to keep the baby, refusing to let himself lose both his woman and his only child, and hastily left the hospital with the newborn. The doctors would have used force to see to it that the demon–child was euthanized, were they legally able to; for obvious reasons, forced euthanasia has always been strictly illegal on Finngaed and on nearly all other civilized worlds.



For roughly the next four years, the father of Denfumia, whom he gave a conventionally–etymologized but uncommon Wabacawler given name, attempted to raise his "monster" of an offspring in secrecy, and grew increasingly withdrawn from society as time went on eventually all but vanishing from public presence. Great measures were taken to keep the mutant toddler's very existence hidden, for highly warranted fear of her (and possibly himself as well) being taken away. All of the medical workers who had been present at the child's birthing were paid many tens of thousands of Galactic Common units apiece to keep their mouths shut, and two of them were suddenly and mysteriously found dead within the cycles immediately following the mutant super–vampire's birth; investigations were held and foul play suspected, but no one was ever indicted and both deaths remained cold cases. Meanwhile, an inordinate number of recently deceased bodies vanished from morgues, cemeteries, etc. in and around Nasfrott over the course of those four years, though there was no observable spike in the number of actual murders within the region, with the exception of those two doctors. Despite the increasingly–demented father's efforts to hide his dark secret being largely successful in terms of "official" standings, in the lower levels of Nasfrott's communities and even on the streets of cities elsewhere on the planet, many rumors did abound over the four–years–time, most of which ended up being pretty spot–on.

Eventually, his madness growing and his hope for his daughter having become progressively depleted over time as he was forced to face more and more the fact that she really was a monster, with her cravings for the blood of sentients showing no signs of decreasing and, if anything, growing, Denfumia's father snapped. Despite his wanting desperately to be able to love and accept her, he found himself utterly unable to continue doing the things he had been doing while sacrificing nearly every other aspect of his personal life, and decided that the malignantly vampiric mutant child had to die. Taking Denfumia, who was still even "younger" than her own physical age in terms of knowledge and speaking ability – having no contact with the outside world whatsoever besides one's father, with said father himself being in a state of mental and psychological deterioration, will do that do a person – out into the middle of the nearby woods late one night, he told his daughter that he was bringing her out into the "real world", and she, having come to trust her sole caretaker over the course of her young life thus far, trusted him. Upon reaching a spot he deemed to be sufficiently obscure and unlikely to ever be investigated, he led Denfumia out of the Dirkster (automobile), put a single handgun bullet in the back of her head, buried her in a shallow grave and departed. Dropping his facade of a normal demeanor as soon as he'd believed she was dead, he continued to cry hysterically as he drove, drunk on his own tears, back to Nasfrott and retreated into his home where he now lived alone, slamming the door behind him.

Denfumia's father would never leave that building alive again. One half–cycle later, he was found, dead since several days earlier, in his living room with a stool on its side on the floor and a noose hung from the ceiling. The noose, however, was empty, untouched, and the body instead lay on the floor, thoroughly, "professionally" mutilated and almost completely drained of blood, in a way distinct from and more extreme than how "normal" Wabacawlers sometimes drank blood from corpses of their own kind when desperately starving. The following investigations of the death and the property on which it had occurred yielded little evidence, only a few hints to the truth; no other bodies were found in any part of the home, though many scattered blood stains were, especially in the basement area and with some of them appearing to be years old. Further investigations and searches throughout Nasfrott bore no additional evidence or clues whatsoever.



Obviously in the context of this biography, though not yet to the knowledge of the public, Denfumia had in fact not died by her father's hand in the woods. As the super–vampire would later demonstrate time and time again, she possessed advanced blood–regeneration–based healing abilities which had been present in her even at this young age and, given that much, most likely from birth. Rising from the ground within hours after being left for dead there, the forsaken mutant child, still injured, weakened, lost, frightened and confused, initially began wandering aimlessly through the dark environment she'd now found herself in. It is entirely possible, perhaps even more likely than not, that had the chance meeting that would soon occur not happened when it did, Denfumia actually would have died out there in the woods; despite being a very special, powerful little girl, she was still a little girl.

Enter Yagelga, a fanatically God–fearing and overall demented but, in certain ways, wise old hermit of a woman who had withdrawn from the "sinful" society of Nasfrott many years ago and since lived alone in a hut, one she'd constructed with her own two hands from manually–acquired materials, in the middle of the woods, and whose aforementioned home the wandering, near–starving Denfumia just happened to stumble across. Seeing her, and immediately taking full note of her weak, disoriented state while being far less concerned, at least in the immediate term, with her abnormalities, Yagelga took the delirious toddler into her home and swiftly went about providing her with a meal in the form of a freshly dead Teddkrutch taken directly from the personal "farm" in back of her hut. The last time someone had attempted to feed her such an animal having been during her infancy, Denfumia, still less–than–lucid from what she was still recovering from but now on her way to becoming lucid again, now that she was being given food and shelter, attempted to drink the plucky avian's life fluids for only a few minutes before giving up on it… and turning her attention to the old hag beside her. Do understand that attacking Yagelga, the very person who had just saved her life, was not as much Denfumia's fault as it would have been in most other circumstances. After all, the only other person she'd ever come to recognize as "friend" rather than "food" (and indeed, the only other living person she had interacted with up until now outside of her birthing) had been her own father, and even he had just turned on and tried to kill her, a fact that she was still in the process of comprehending and accepting.

As quickly as the super–vampire had lunged at the old woman's leg and sank her teeth into it, however, Yagelga reacted and violently shook her off, sending Denfumia half–flying across the room and into a side–interior wall of the hut and knocking her out momentarily. It was at this point that the hag, who, as she had just demonstrated, was not nearly as feeble as she might have appeared, having developed plenty of survival skills during her time as a hermit as had been necessary for her survival out in the woods, took greater note of the child's strange appearance as she lay there, unmoving but visibly still breathing, and began to piece together the nature of her condition. While she did this and tended to her own bleeding, punctured leg, the full extent of the pain in which kicked in with a delay, Denfumia began to wake back up after only a few minutes; despite it being as easy to knock her unconscious as with any young child, she was extra–mortally quick to come to – after all a bullet in the head had only put her out for a few hours. Upon doing so, she started to cry, very softly at first but then with increasing intensity and volume, soon catching Yagelga's attention. A conversation then ensued in which Denfumia bore, in infantile, half–coherent language, all that she knew about herself, her life, the world, and everything else, for that matter, confirming to the hermit what she had already been about to fully realize.



With this knowledge, Yagelga's first instinct was to carefully start moving toward where she kept her axe, but as she thought harder about it, about how this child had been utterly forsaken by the whole world for something that, while ghastly, she had no free will over determining and which was technically just a more extreme form of something that all Wabacawlers were guilty of, she stopped herself as she made an epiphanic and dubious subjective realization. Despite being excessively harsh towards those around her as to what was right and wrong and having, in a way, "forsaken" her own people as a whole out of her radical beliefs on God's will, Yagelga was in some, select ways simultaneously wiser than most, and her beliefs and impositions, though excessive, were largely based in truths. In this particular dilemma of an instance, she had reached the conclusion that no individual of a race known to be capable of good could be, inherently, by nature and from birth, irredeemably evil and unfit for living. Upon contemplating this, she then reached the second, more personally–affecting conclusion that this child whom others had denounced as an "abomination" had been arranged by God and His servants to cross paths with her as a sign of and call to a mutual destiny that they would have to work together to fulfill. This destiny, Yagelga reasoned: punishing, exterminating the truly wicked – that is, those who had chosen lives of mortal sin far more severe than that committed by the rest of the wayward populace and had, furthermore, shown an utter unwillingness to reform – among Wabacawler–kind.

Yagelga held out a hand to Denfumia, telling her, in simple terms that she, being little more than an infant mentally, could understand, that she was a friend.

Over the following days, the hermit woman continued taking care of Denfumia, nursing her to as healthy a state as she could be restored to without ingesting humanoid blood, and taking early measures toward educating her in more coherent speech, all while further explaining to the child her plans for her and testing, exploring her physical abilities. With the super–vampire's innate skills of acrobatic agility quickly proving to be beyond even Yagelga's greatest expectations, it was not long before she decided that the time had come for the undertaking of what both herself and the person she now thought of as her "daughter" had come to agree should be her first "mission": the killing of the father who had tried to kill his own child.

On the eighth night following Yagelga's finding of Denfumia, the former led the latter out of the woods and into Nasfrott, arriving in the city during the hour of night when the streets were most empty. Climbing up to and silently prying open the window of the mansion she had once called her home with incredible expertise for this being her first time doing such a thing, the mutant child entered the building and proceeded to navigate its rooms and hallways with great furtiveness until she at last located her father, who was presently preparing to kill himself over a three–way combination of remorse, despair and sheer insanity. Were Denfumia not as presently starved for blood during this moment, she might have had second thoughts about killing her father upon seeing this. However, the reality at the moment was that she was very starved for blood.

She tore her father's throat, chest and wrists open and drank the blood flowing from each of the resulting wounds until little was left of his body but dry skin and bone; he did not attempt to fight back.



Following the death of Denfumia's father, there were, over the next several years, a large number of strikingly similar murder cases in and around Nasfrott as well as in some other nearby settlements. In all these cases, the murders took place overnight. In all these cases, the victims were found in heavily mutilated, sucked–dry states. In all these cases, the investigations yielded no evidence solid enough to constitute a true "lead" even as it became increasingly clear with each death that the murders were all connected; committed by the same entity. Note that, initially, it was not even clear to the Wabacawler populations that the killer was even the type of being that could be called a "person"; demonic presences were often cited in early rumors surrounding the string of deaths. Despite they themselves being afflicted by a form of vampirism, it had been so long since the last Wabacawler–on–Wabacawler vampiric murder that the notion of such a crime seldom crossed their minds during the early stages of the killer's time of prevalence. In most of the cases, investigations did, however, lead to discoveries revealing prior criminal and/or otherwise immoral activity on the parts of the victims; in the few that did not, it came to be extrapolated, as the general pattern became clear, that the victims there had been criminals as well. One victim was found out to have been a mass extortionist, another a person–trafficking "pimp" and yet another (arguably ironically) an outright serial killer. Others were discovered to have been guilty of lesser crimes that would not, in a system of due process, warrant death or even that long of an imprisonment, and even in the cases of the worst offenders among the victims, their outright violent murders were never considered to be justified by authorities. Nevertheless, the increasingly evident pattern of those slain by the mysterious killer turning out to have been wrongdoers themselves and "it" (later thought of primarily as "him" as it became clear that "it/him" was indeed a person, or at least a sentient being capable of having a motivating force) doing the dark deeds it did in the name of some form of justice, even a warped one, gave "it/him/whatever" a more glorified image in the minds of many. The fact that, if the acts of the killer "itself" are excluded from calculations, felony rates in Nasfrott and the surrounding regions plummeted by more than 20% during the Drainer's initial reign of terror did not help the "problem" that was "its" glorification. Of course, there were times, cases when the romanticization went objectively too far. There was even one (and thankfully only one… known) instance of someone else imitating the killer, by then popularly known as "The Drainer", by murdering his allegedly "abusive" landlord in what was intended to be the same manner. He was found at the scene of the crime, well into the following morning, in a state of shocked mania and with his victim's body nowhere near as drained as the Drainer's previous victims had consistently been; it was swiftly and widely realized, as the story of this incident unfolded in its wake, that this disturbed individual was not "the real deal".

Ultimately, "the real deal" would go uncaught and unknown in identity until Age 802, at which point the "Drainer" murders were still continuing, and often occurring as frequently as once every cycle. One day, a wealthy man came forward to Nasfrott's constabulary, confessing to multiple recent acts of fraud, which he now regretted intensely out of fear that the "Drainer" would eviscerate him, and begging to be detained somewhere safe. With some time having passed since the last vampiric murder and the next one seeming "overdue", the authorities proposed a deal to the man: they would guard him within his home during the coming nights; if this led to them catching the "Drainer", he would be allowed to keep his freedom. The racketeer, after some deliberation, agreed to this deal, reasoning that the prospect of avoiding imprisonment, even while still losing all his money, outweighed the odds of the Drainer overpowering the constables and succeeding in killing him despite his and their efforts.

As it turned out, not only was that crooked man's paranoia wholly warranted, but he could not have chosen a more perfect time to come to the authorities for help; Denfumia would break into his home that very night. Moreover, had the attempted killing taken place at any later date, Yagelga, during her daytime scoutings of the city, the intended victim and his property under a beggar's guise which had been a routine aspect of preparing for the carrying out of killings since early in her and her "daughter"'s "career" of "carrying out God's will", would have caught on to this plan and changed those of herself and Denfumia in accordance with this discovery. However, this was, again, not the case, and both of them being elusive and cunning but not omniscient, neither Yagelga nor Denfumia would know of the operation being conducted against them until it was too late.



Upon reaching the quarters of her would–be victim, Denfumia was ambushed by several armed constables, and a fight ensued; one officer was killed and two more injured before the others finally managed to incapacitate the super–vampire with multiple bullet wounds to the peripheral areas of the torso. During the course of the altercation, a Communocatite message was sent out to all other night–shift constables on Nasfrott's streets, alerting them that the "Drainer" had been found, and following this several quickly arrived on the scene, where they found Yagelga outside the building and attempted to arrest her as well. The hag, now well into her eighties, violently resisted arrest… and was promptly shot dead with a single bullet to the head fired by an overzealous rookie constable. The intended victim survived the ordeal unscathed and was later stripped of most of his property while avoiding imprisonment.

Denfumia was taken, unconscious, to constabulary headquarters for questioning, waking up there fastened into an interrogation chair that bound her with what were essentially mesh–metal ropes and surrounded at gunpoint by agents of the law. Upon being questioned, she disclosed in great detail information constituting the bulk of what has been recounted in this very biography up to this point, albeit with a twisted perspective indicative of her belief that she had only been doing what God had always intended for her. This was to the immense astonishment of all of her present captors, who could not help but to be engrossed, darkly fascinated, by the entire macabre tale, the most shocking element in all of it being that the infamous, ever–elusive "Drainer" killer had, for all this time, been a young girl who, even now, was barely even a teenager.

Following her account, Denfumia demanded to be released and to know where they had taken her "mother".

She was bluntly informed by one of the constables that Yagelga had been killed.

Upon being told this, the mutant became enraged, going into a mad frenzy through which she, to the further shock of her captors, broke free of the metal restraints that bound her and proceeded to lunge onto the person who had said this, tearing his throat organs completely, cleanly out as the other constables began opening fire on her, some of them with slight hesitation. As all the eyewitness accounts of the incident from these very same law enforcers go, Denfumia then immediately released the tactless officer's already dead body from her grasp and fled the room, the building and the city with startling agility; some of the constables even swore they saw her hovering, levitating as she made her (ultimately successful but dubious–seeming at the time) getaway. It was also claimed by more than one of the constables that they managed to shoot Denfumia multiple times, including (allegedly) in the head, as she made her escape, inflicting damage that "should" have been fatal.



Shortly after the "chase" reached the outside streets, it ended just as abruptly as it had started as Denfumia seemed to vanish in a way that none of the law enforcement agents who participated in or were otherwise present for the overall sequence of events have ever been able to confidently explain; her disappearance from sight and from the radar of constabulary pursuit seemed very much inexplicable. When all was said and done and as the morning sun began to rise soon thereafter, the status of the long–standing case of "The Drainer", as well as of its subject, was uncertain for the time being. The killer's identity, nature, motives, background and name were all now known, but Denfumia herself had seemingly escaped; seemingly. The constabulary of Nasfrott, in the aftermath of the night's ordeal, considered themselves to have some reasons to believe that the super–vampire might – might – have been killed, given the claims among their men that she had been shot in ways that "should" have resulted in mortal wounds as well as the fact that Brighis had started coming up at a point when she may very well have still been out in the open both standing as factors amid the uncertainty. During the following day of business at constabulary headquarters, the status of the "Drainer" case was updated as "solved; culprit still at large". Starting that same day and continuing over the next several, searches of the woods the killer was now known to have lived in, including Yagelga's hut, which was found empty, were conducted, all of them proving fruitless.

When several cycles proceeded to pass with no reports of additional murders matching the methods of operation of the killer now known to be Denfumia, the case's status was updated again, this time to "solved; culprit presumed deceased".

One day short of one exact forty–day cycle after that update was made, its "presumption" was proven to be highly incorrect when news reached Nasfrott of yet another grisly murder that had left the victim's body mutilated almost beyond recognition and bereft of blood. Moreover, subsequent investigations of the property on which the killing had occurred had started, and were continuing, to reveal some disturbing, drug–dealing–related details about the victim and his private dealings. Furthermore, the homicide had been committed in one of the Southernmost settlements on Finngaed, hundreds of miles away from Nasfrott and nearly as many miles further from the Wabacawler capital than the sites of any of Denfumia's previous known killings. Upon being sent the message informing him and the rest of Nasfrott's constabulary of this news, the agent operating the receiver, who had watched his best friend within the force die by the super–vampire's hands (or possibly her fangs; it was hard to determine which, given that both had pierced his body) during the initial operation that had led to her brief capture, fainted in a rather theatrical, melodramatic fashion.



From that point onward and over the next fourteen years, Denfumia, who was now known by her true name to those who pursued and/or feared and/or were fascinated with her, would continue her bloody "work", now operating alone and with her acts of twisted justice occurring with somewhat less frequency than before but also over a greater geographical area than before, this new "range" of her activity being the whole of Finngaed's map. Her methods of operation, as well as the general "results" of her "handiwork" on her victims, remained largely the same: with few exceptions, those killed by Denfumia were discovered after their deaths to have been involved in criminal activity or, in some cases, had been known or widely suspected to be guilty of severe wrongdoing beforehand, but without sufficient "official" evidence to convict them. Again, many, both at the time and to this day, believe/believed the aforementioned "exceptions" to have done something to earn Denfumia's wrath as well, their dark secrets merely being better–hidden, in regards to both "waves" of killings. However, it is extremely unlikely that Denfumia never killed an innocent, given general, proven "margin of error" statistics for mortal–made judgments and applying those to the sheer number of people she killed, which stands at more than one hundred. Furthermore, it should be stressed that not even all of the proven felons that made up the bulk of her victims necessarily deserved to be murdered, especially in such a particularly violent way… on the other hand, though, a great many of them were, to say the least, hard to feel any sympathy at all for after the extents of what they had done and, in some cases, had been continuing to do became evident. In regards to a particular few of her killings, most notably a would–be terrorist planning to bomb a party held by the Wabacawler royal family, Denfumia actually saved several lives, albeit probably not as many as she took.

There were far more sightings of and near–apprehensions of Denfumia during the latter half of her "career", whose turning point can easily be defined as the death of Yagelga and her own temporary capture, than during the former. Many claimed to have seen her at night, usually in the act of climbing up the walls or across the rooftops of buildings. Though at least some of these can be dismissed as mistakes, "wishful thinking" or even deliberate, empty grabs for attention (given her now–known identity and agenda), there is enough of a consistent theme between many of the reported sightings, that being a habit of acrobatically traversing buildings, for a majority to be assumed as valid. Such sightings suggested nighttime scouting practices on Denfumia's part, and this was almost certainly the case; her precision in choosing targets based on their immoral actions without the aid of a day–walking partner or instructor stands as an almost unfathomable feat even if one assumes her to have spent every single night spying on people. It remains a strong possibility that most, if not all, prominent citizens of Finngaed during Denfumia's life were "observed" by her at least once.

Three (and only three, despite the increases in nighttime patrols across the Finngaed that were in direct response to her presence and actions) separate "chases" took place in the aftermaths of murders committed in three different major cities; each played out similarly to Denfumia's escape from the constabulary in Nasfrott, with her appearing to "hover" as she fled with extra–mortal speed each time. Only one constable was killed between all three of these incidents; Denfumia never deliberately went after the law enforcers who pursued her throughout her life (unless they were severely corrupt in their dealings with others). Meanwhile, over the years, several more paranoid criminals turned themselves in, begging protection from the murderous vigilante, but none of the resulting operations resulted in Denfumia being caught like the first one had. In fact, none of the people who confessed to crimes for this reason ever ended up being killed by her, each of them instead being taken to prison after several nights of protected house arrest during which she would consistently fail to show up.



In the Seventh Cycle of Age 816, a date later realized and noted to have fallen shortly after the twenty–seventh anniversary of her birth, and after more than two decades' worth of killings, Denfumia was, for better or worse, finally put to rest. At this point in time felony rates across Finngaed had, since the super–vampire's birth, dropped a full 30%, and were now at their lowest since Wabacawler–kind's initial development of a method to keep track of macrocosmic crime rates. As a result, Denfumia had been striking considerably less frequently as of late, by virtue of there being fewer evil people left on the planet to go after. With nearly three cycles having passed since her last killing and her physically needing to feed again soon, however, she was about to strike once again, and for what would ultimately be the last time. Her target, chosen with extreme, particular carefulness: a member of the core Wabacawler royal family.

Enter Prince Kaillio of Nasfrott, the second in line for succession to Finngaed's and Wabacawler–kind's highest seat of regency… and the foremost conspirator in an insidious plot among several of the royal family's inner circle of nobles to murder both the current King and the elder prince and sell out the already–neutered monarchy to said corrupt nobles, effectively abolishing it and ending more than a millennium of standing tradition. Denfumia had never before spilled royal blood nor even been sighted on the premises of Nasfrott's central chateau complex that housed the ruling family and its closest associates. As of and over the course of the last several nights, however, she had in fact been working her impeccable skills of silent, stealthy surveillance on the palace and its denizens for presumably the first time, ultimately discovering through these scoutings the above–described conspiracy. Quite possibly by sheer chance, her timing in choosing to look into the behind–closed–doors dealings of Finngaed's rulers proved to be nearly–perfect; following Denfumia's attack on the young, handsome and murderously treacherous Kaillio, it was discovered that his and his co–conspirators' plans were all but fully prepared to be set into motion and would otherwise have been carried out, most likely successfully, within the next few days.

Infiltrating the core palace of Nasfrott's chateau complex and assassinating one of its most prestigious residents would be Denfumia's greatest, most challenging undertaking ever… and she, despite all of her skills and abilities that would have and had allowed her to successfully carry out equivalent deeds in just about any other, lesser place of residence on Finngaed… she failed. The super–vampire, while en route to Kaillio's quarters, was spotted by one of the palace's many, many night watchmen, who gave chase while alerting an increasing number of additional guards, all of whom proceeded to join in the pursuit of Denfumia as she continually outdistanced them, once again appearing to be "floating" as she darted through the halls.

This culminated in a massive stand–off within the quarters of Prince Kaillio, who had, as with all the other sleeping royals, been awoken and alerted to Denfumia's presence by the time she reached his room and quickly found herself surrounded by palace guards from all sides and with all doorways and exits blocked as she came face–to–face with her target.



Terrified yet expressing a possibly insincere assurance that his many guards would protect him, Kaillio, without saying a word to Denfumia herself, immediately demanded that they shoot down the most elusive and prolific serial killer in the history of the Wabacawler race. Only a few shots were initially fired, with most of the present security officers hesitating as they saw that she was now merely standing there, and found themselves starting to question why she was going after the prince. In addition, many among them were further captivated by the appearance of the infamous killer who was now visible in full view for the first time since her all–too–brief first capture many years ago. Her skin simmering and blistering from the various light sources in the room which had all been switched on, but her seeming to ignore, at least for the moment, whatever pain this was causing her, this was also the case with the few bullets that had flown her way and pierced her body. Her clothing was ragtag and minimal, having what seemed to have once been a bright red color but was now severely faded, and most noticeably and peculiarly of all, she was surprisingly short, appearing closer in size to the adolescent she had been at the time of her first capture than to the fully–grown, albeit still young, adult that she now was chronologically.

After but a few tense seconds of silence, and just when it seemed Kaillio was about to angrily restate his order to kill her, Denfumia spoke, revealing the truth about her current intended victim and his machinations. She then went on further, stating in what would ultimately be her final words that she had never been given any other choice in life but to do the things she had spent hers doing, and would never, could never go quietly, could never surrender, could never cease carrying out these acts of necessary evil that no one else was capable or willing to do and which she still adamantly believed herself to have been chosen and destined by God to devote her life to.

As she finished her speech, Denfumia began walking slowly toward Prince Kaillio, who demanded once again of his guards that they shoot the "abomination" attacking him down, this time outright screaming and while insisting what the assailant had just said about him to be untrue. While some hesitated once again or even refused to shoot, enough of the men opened fire for the blood–sucking vigilante to be stopped in her tracks and struck down as a borderline–hail of bullets met her body. She fell to the ground before Kaillio's feet in a quickly–forming pool of her own blood, and seconds later, upon seeing that she was still breathing, he frantically, and as more and more of the guards looked to him with scrutiny, grabbed away the gun as well as the bullet satchel of the one standing nearest to him and unloaded several consecutive clips directly into Denfumia's head. He continued to shoot until well after she was clearly, truly dead, only stopping when he himself was shot in the knee by a disgusted night watchman.

Subsequent investigations proved everything Denfumia had said about Prince Kaillio to be true, and he was deposed, denounced by his family, convicted of high treason and hanged, while those who had conspired with him were imprisoned for the remainders of their lives. Despite her being further vindicated by the public and even by some of the royal family's associates for the particular heroism of her final acts, Denfumia still stood as a serial murderer, and her remains were denied proper burial and cremated as long–standing decrees dictated would happen to the bodies of all such violent criminals. Neither the King nor the elder, remaining prince, the latter of whom is still alive and serving as King as of Age 850, did anything to stop this "dishonorable" disposal of Denfumia's remains, nor has either ever officially and directly mentioned her at all, either positively or negatively, despite her obvious and singular role in uncovering and stopping the plot that, if not for her, would probably have succeeded in killing them.

Among general, public populations all across Finngaed, however, as well as among Wabacawler colonies elsewhere in the Prime Galaxy and even among some non–Wabacawler societies, Denfumia remains widely recognized as a legend, and while anyone who would literally call her a force of pure good is… well, insane, far more people would call her a hero than would call her a villain if forced to strictly classify her as either one or the other.
3. Nava-Verse Hero Biography: Worpurr the JuggerKnight
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Worpurr "the Juggerknight" was a Virslagly–born Hexpultis mutant who lived from early Age 790 to late Age 834 and whose career as a mercenary lasted from Age 815 to Age 829. He is often referred to as the last and best of the great warriors of his kind, in reference to his kind having been known for a time to produce many successful warriors–for–hire but this trend having already been on the decline at the time of Worpurr's birth and currently appearing to be on its way out for good as of today. He is also often, and not without reason, considered a highly tragic figure.

Unlike most mutants, whose abnormal characteristics are generally apparent from birth, Worpurr was born with the appearance, features and behaviors of a completely average Hexpultis, only for his mutations to start manifesting during his early childhood. Beginning at the age of three–and–a–half, he began to intermittently experience major, sudden and rapid growth spurts which left him measuring (with his "horns" included) a full six feet tall by the time he was the same number of years old. Worpurr's accelerated physical growth was accompanied by similarly expedited mental growth, and emotional development was likewise hastened as well; at the age of ten, the young mutant was already indistinguishable from a full–grown Hexpultis adult in both form and functional capacity, and he would continue growing in both of these fields for roughly another ten years beyond this point, albeit not quite as rapidly and dramatically as he had during the first decade of his life.

Shortly after their son's unique condition became apparent to the parents of Worpurr during the course of his initial growth spurts, and amidst their worried efforts to keep others in their community, the basin–situated small city of Obrac, from noticing it for the time being while they figured out which course of action, if any, would be best to address or accommodate his situation, another symptom of mutation manifested in the boy which effectively rendered the notion of keeping his abnormality discreet an impossible one. Note that the fingers of Hexpultis are very unique; on each hand, members of the species have three "full" fingers which each consist of three smaller, weaker, bundled–together "mini–fingers", of which there are thus a total of eighteen between both hands. Shortly after his fourth birthday and over the course of only a few days, Worpurr grew a second set of fingers "on top of" his natural set; that is to say, he came to have six smaller fingers in each of the "bundles" that were his "full" fingers. The onset of this initially inconveniencing and cumbersome deviation from the normal Hexpultis form in Worpurr ensured that "hiding" his mutant status from his peers would not be a feasible option, and indeed, the child soon came to be widely known for his condition throughout Obrac and was, while not outright hated or even truly ostracized, outcasted for it. He was "defined" by his being different in the minds of others and, while still being treated as a person, not treated as a normal person. As Worpurr grew up and continued to exhibit accelerated growth in all areas of his being, eventually beginning to surpass the peak of regular Hexpultis development, the scrutiny imposed on him by others only compounded, with many speculating on just how long and how far his irregular development would continue for what would eventually become of him, insinuating some disturbing "possibilities" suggesting that he was destined to either die young or turn into a monster.



By the time Worpurr finally did stop growing around the age of twenty, his state was that of a being which could more or less accurately be described as "a Hexpultis and a half"; he had become the largest specimen of his kind ever recorded, standing 9'2'' with his "horns" included in the measurement and 7'8'' without; for reference, a flat seven feet with "horns" included is considered the "maximum" height for any regular Hexpultis. His strength, stamina and resilience levels, which had begun to skyrocket somewhat later than his size, were now even further beyond those of any normal Hexpultis than his "giant" appearance let on; such extra–mortal physical prowess was and is common to many, if not most mutants, but his was particularly great. Worpurr's mind, meanwhile, had developed – read: overdeveloped – to a hyper–lucid state, making him extremely intelligent but also mentally unstable and detached by nature; his brain and thought processes worked too well, too fast for him to fit in. In one long–term demonstration of his freakish hyper–coordination, he had trained himself to effectively control and make use of his extra fingers, a feat that required a level of coordination which any other Hexpultis would have needed years of training to reach; Worpurr had been able to accomplish it within mere days of first applying an effort toward doing so.

As his growth did slow and eventually stop, and as this was noticed by the rest of his community, the people's fears and cautions regarding Worpurr ultimately subsided from the peak levels they had previously reached, and they grew more receptive to and trusting of him, but by then, the effects of their longtime scrutiny were already permanently embedded in his psyche. Worpurr had long–since come to think of and accept himself as a freak and a loner, and not even a heartfelt total turnaround by all those who had previously outcasted him would change that now.

Since his first reaching adulthood, defined as age seventeen by Hexpultis standards, but especially as he entered his twenties, Worpurr, previously a quiet recluse since his mutations had become fully manifested, became increasingly involved in active, often dangerous local activities. He would join the hunters, militia and workers of Obrac (one of the more quaint settlements on Virslagly during a time of widespread technological growth) in several raids against nearby, growing Zinnktos nests considered to be threats and outings to gather materials that could only be found beyond the relative safety of the Obrac's walls, as well as in some construction projects and other various odd jobs. Throughout all of this, however, Worpurr remained socially detached, seldom speaking to and never bothering to try to make lasting connections with those he encountered while performing these jobs, which he seemed to initially take up out of a combination of boredom and a hope that he would discover some fulfilling purpose through them, which he did not. Even as he came to be known, respected, even, for his usefulness in and around town, which came primarily from his unique size and strength but was also occasionally demonstrated through displays of genius intuition or resourcefulness in contributing to efforts such as figuring out how to go about building or repairing something, and as the dubious stigmas surrounding him began to go away completely, Worpurr remained introverted and disillusioned with his own people. He considered himself to be, knew himself to be, above them in terms of mind, body and overall potential as a person, but was too depressed and confused to start truly applying that potential; he could not discern any "available" undertaking in his present living environment that was "worthy" of him giving his all to. Furthermore, he was still unsure where, if anywhere, he belonged, but became more and more certain as more time still passed that it was not where he currently was.



Shortly after reaching the age of twenty–four, and following cycles, if not years, of quietly contemplating the idea, Worpurr made the decision to leave his hometown for good and seek purpose and answers elsewhere. The resulting journey of self–discovery first led the mutant to various other settlements across the Southern hemisphere of Virslagly, then to Karjec, the largest city on the planet and the unofficial "capital" of the Hexpultis race. As he toured these places, and despite his finding many of them preferable to Obrac, it became increasingly clear to Worpurr that he would not be finding what he was looking for in life anytime soon if he remained on Virslagly. It became increasingly clear to him, as he learned more about the practices of colonization and migration while visiting more advanced cities where opportunities for such things were more readily available, that he needed to get out into the greater frontier that was the Prime Galaxy. Thus, upon reaching Karjec and its spaceport, Worpurr took his chances by investing most of his meager life savings up to that point into a one–way relocation trip to the most promising–sounding venue that was nearby enough for him to afford going to: North Egg City, Ergnoplis.

There, he found himself and his mutant status far more accepted than ever before, and soon learned of the Eggmen Super Team, their history, their accomplishments and their own status as mutants. Upon subsequently seeking out further information on the famous heroes, including that their legacy had begun inspiring other mutant (and in some case "normal") thrill–seekers to join in on the "scene" over the past few decades, as well as on the fairly recent but currently declining trend among his own kind of "hired gun" endeavors, which he had heard of in passing throughout his life but never seriously looked into before, Worpurr at last figured out what he wanted his "destiny" to be. He was going to be a mercenary; an adventurer. A superhero. With the notion that the Eggmen had proven the viability of such a "career" in mind and feeling distinctly inspired by them, this seemed like an ideal course of action for Worpurr: what better way to explore, make full use of, challenge and even possibly improve his unique might and abilities? Moreover, he was not afraid to put himself in harm's way; he did not fear death, for there was very little in the living world that he felt attached to; very little he felt he currently had to lose.

Worpurr's precise activities during the following several cycles remain unknown and distinctly mysterious; it can only be assumed that he spent this time training and otherwise making preparations for his coming enterprises, which he was obviously more than intelligent and savvy enough to know would all but require such beforehand preparatory measures if he was to have any long–term success. However, the withdrawn and reserved mutant, during the few "interviews" knowledge–seekers were able to have with him both while he was active and during his final years, always bluntly refused to talk about this period of just under a year immediately preceding his the start of his rise to fame. Note that he was far more open about other aspects and periods of his early life, and that some of the details in this very biographical account regarding Worpurr's inner thoughts are derived from what he did say in these "interviews".



Worpurr's "big debut"; that is, the first known incident in which he was involved in a heroic role while using his now–famous "costume", took place on the third day of the Seventh Cycle of Age 815 on the planet Repapoge. The planet previously having been occupied by a semi–splinter group of the Dynamo Legion, a group coincidentally known for being fought and ultimately toppled (largely) by the Eggmen Super Team, the last vestiges of the Legion were thought to have left Repapoge many years prior. However, a group of Ebonorates, the planet's extremely hostile natives, had recently discovered, amidst the wilderness and wastelands surrounding their village, a dust–drenched, damaged and dilapidated but still ultimately salvageable LoadHauler vehicle, which had presumably been abandoned there by Demioid personnel under unknowable circumstances at some point during the period of Legion–associate occupation. Having restored the large carrier to working condition, the Ebonorates had taken it out into Beta Octant space for a malicious "joyride" and with full intentions of causing some sort of mayhem before returning to Repapoge. They had ended up intercepting, purely by chance, the course of a Joiemgaw Supershipper trade–transport ship bound for Ergnoplis and subsequently raiding it, taking from the unarmed ship all of the recreational gadgetry on board and slaughtering the crew, with the exception of the wealthy executive in charge of the vessel and its operations, whom they took hostage. Now holding both this person of importance and his ship's nearly–as–valuable trove of cargo, as well as the ship itself, for ransom back on their home planet, the Ebonorates were stipulating that the either the Joiemgaws or someone else give them a number of smaller vehicles, which they would surely use to commit further acts of off–world terror were they allowed to get a hold of them, in exchange for the safe return of these things. These demands were made known to the concerned parties using the stolen Supershipper's communication systems, which had "conveniently" been offline at the time of the initial violent hijacking (not that the crew's contacts could have done anything to stop it even if they were immediately alerted).

This was where Worpurr came in. Hours after the Ebonorates' threatening transmission reached Wegneheck, and with it being uncertain how he found out so quickly about the crisis, which was not publicized while it was transpiring, the Hexpultis came to the coordinates on Repapoge specified in said message in a one–seater Groovecruiser. Emerging from the vehicle with guns blazing, he proceeded to singlehandedly slaughter every one of the more than two–dozen Ebonorates present (all of whom, it should be stressed, actively fought back and would have attacked first if given the chance). Though the Supershipper and its cargo were saved, Worpurr failed to save the Joiemgaw executive, whose throat was slit by the Ebonorates directly guarding him as soon as they were alerted to the fact that their group was under attack. When Joiemgaw officials, who had already been on their way of their own accord at the time of the mutant warrior's intervention, arrived on the scene having decided to give in to the Ebonorates' demands and with the ransom vehicles thusly in tow, they were shocked to find a bloody mess of a scene, at the center of which only a single, towering figure remained alive. And rather than standing triumphantly and unscathed, this figure was kneeling in fatigue and pain, with one hand clenching his bleeding chest.



Worpurr, was arrested and indicted in the Joiemgaw V.I.P.'s death and taken to a prison hospital on Wegneheck, falling into unconsciousness on the way to the Joiemgaw homeworld but subsequently making a full recovery within forty–eight hours. This was much to the shock of his doctors, who had concluded that he, whose race was identified not quite as readily as that of a normal Hexpultis would, had sustained more net physical trauma than anyone "should" be able to survive. As the overall incident of the brief ransom crisis was publicized across Wegneheck and the resulting news story continued to unfold, the sole surviving figure found on the scene of its aftermath was dubbed "The Juggerknight" in the media in portmanteau–reference to both his, as the news exaggeratedly put it, "indestructibility" and the full–body suit of consistently darkly–colored armor he had been wearing when discovered and arrested. After being pried from his unconscious body, this costume, which bore a suspicious but ultimately coincidental resemblance to Ebonorate armor (which is actually attached to the wearer's body), was prominently shown, in its damaged but still recognizable and repairable state, in many news reports and publications. During the approximately two–day period that elapsed between the incident on Repapoge and the mysterious warrior and accused murderers' release from the intensive care unit he had originally been taken to due to the immense intensity of the ordeal he appeared to have (and indeed had) experienced, its image was used as the primary representation of his person.

After being discharged from medical care, Worpurr was imprisoned to await trial, and from his cell he was accosted to no end by actual reporters and random, nosy people with cameras alike. When questioned about his involvement in the executive's death, he bluntly spoke what he knew to be the truth and was, ultimately, correct about: that the Ebonorates would not have held up their end of the deal had he not intervened; that they would have killed not only the man from the Supershipper but the (indeed, unarmed) party dispatched to make the exchange as well. He told the Joiemgaws that he had saved their people not only a lot of trouble, but several lives and several billion Galactic Common's worth in equipment. Reactions to these statements were… mixed. Worpurr had been expecting his actions to be unequivocally celebrated and planning to demand that the Joiemgaws pay him in exchange, and was quite annoyed indeed to find that the reality of his "reward" was turning out to be almost the opposite; it was very much like experiencing the scrutiny of his own people from his childhood all over again. He did not express this personal outrage at the time, however, knowing that doing so would only hurt his chances of acquittal. However, there was one "element" among the money–grubbing merchant people's initial reception of him that he did appreciate, and which would, in the long–term, prove more valuable for him than any amount of material currency would have – that title they were using for him: "Juggerknight". A large part of Worpurr's motivation for wanting to be a "superhero" had always lain in how the people, the "normal" people, would view him and his exploits, how they would, were he successful, create a "legendary" persona around him and view him as something great; perhaps even greater than he really had been. The fact that he was already, after his very first "mission", being given a (for lack of a better word) badass title by the public was, even with his being aware that it had been coined in an ambivalent (at best) context, an indicator in his mind that he was on to something, offsetting the discouragement he felt from the other, negative aspects of his initial reception.

To make a long story short: Worpurr, when put on trial and upon pleading his case, as described above, to a formal court of law, was eventually found innocent. The two main factors that helped decide this verdict were processed evidence from the scene of the "crime" definitively proving that he had not directly killed the V.I.P. and research conducted on the history and tendencies of Ebonorates heavily suggesting that the ones he'd killed would have ended up murdering several more people had he not taken action against them.



His armor as well as his Groovecruiser (which had also been recovered from the scene of his fight with the Ebonorates) returned to him as he was given his freedom, Worpurr, now known as "The Juggerknight" among the Joiemgaws with connotations more positive than before and intending to make both his name and that title known throughout as much of the rest of the galaxy as possible, went on his way, heading back to Ergnoplis for the time being. Dismissing the complications that had arisen in the aftermath of his first heroic outing as a mere product of bad luck and misunderstanding, he determined to make sure that his future endeavors would stem as few such drawbacks as possible, a resolution that he would stick to and see through in regards to almost every one of the many further adventures he would have over the course of the next decade–and–a–half.

On Worpurr the Juggerknight's iconic, semi–namesake, near–black armor: it was truly one–of–a–kind, having to be repaired several times by its owner, including after its very first known usage as just recounted, but never being outright replaced. Absolutely no one truly knows where it came from: the armor's origin is the biggest mystery surrounding Worpurr and that mysterious chapter of his life that he always refused to talk about, though the answer is likely less fantastic than many would imagine; i.e., he could very well have simply made it himself through standard smithing methods. It was very distinct from other Hexpultis armors made both earlier on and since in its overall design and heavy weight, and was clearly made specifically for the only one who ever did wear it, given its shape and massive size, not to mention gloves to accommodate his extra fingers. The armor primarily consisted of a number of very strong plates made from an uncertain metallic material, which were arranged in just the right pattern of separation so as to give it an optimal balance between protection factor and flexibility. It covered more than 95% of Worpurr's body surface when in undamaged condition, the only truly exposed area being the face, and its leathery inner layer was nearly skintight. Perhaps most notably and ingeniously, however, the armor featured structures in the top of its helmet that provided near–perfect protection to its wearer's horns, which were, accessory organs to his brain, as is the case with the "horns" of all Hexpultis, and included a sturdy connective half–tube structure in its back for stability. It is consequently unfortunate and ironic, all things considered, that even this eventually proved to be inadequate in the most crucial of moments.

Following his debut, Worpurr the Juggerknight operated on Ergnoplis for the next several cycles, honing his skills further by mostly fighting common criminals while also occasionally dealing with inanimate hazards from which he found himself having to rescue people. During this time, he earned a great deal of money, which he would need to support himself further abroad, as well as a modest amount of local renown before departing to explore and search for new opportunities and adventures throughout the whole of the Prime Galaxy, of which he may or may not have had yet to visit any of the other sectors besides the Beta Octant, which contains all three of the planets thus far mentioned in this biography, prior to this point.

From then onward, Worpurr's success and fame… well, not quite skyrocketed, but escalated greatly over the next several years as he eventually visited most, if not all, civilized worlds in the Prime Galaxy, performing various and numerous feats of heroism and soon beginning to rake in large heaps of money. Having little interest in excess, though, he ended up giving much of the earnings he accumulated throughout his career to charitable causes. Though relatively few and far between were the ventures of his that matched the scope and grandeur of his first fight against all those Ebonorates, Worpurr was almost constantly in the midst of at least some kind of work, even if it was as simple as bodyguard service during which no actual threats arose.

In–between his daring outings, Worpurr spent most of what "free" time he did give himself exploring, examining and trying to appreciate the peoples and environments of the various worlds he traveled to and between, with the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would find a place with people he could identify and fit in with, and one day, when he was older, settle down in. He never did find such a place where he felt he could ever "belong" as a "normal" person, though he has been claimed by multiple sources yet without proof to have once said that the Adbamnants of Crucbicile, one of the planets that Worpurr was indeed known to have operated on more often than most others, were the race he always felt "closest" to being able to identify with as peers.

During the later years of his time as "The Juggerknight", Worpurr took up writing, of the introspective journaling and poetry varieties, as a means of expressing his highly unique thoughts and ideas. He would end up putting together hundreds of small but often profound compositions before his being rendered unable to write anymore, at which point he willingly released all of his writings, kept private up until then, to the public and let the rights to them go up for grabs. Since then and especially since his subsequent death five years later, Worpurr's writings have been considered of moderate significance, being studied mainly for the sake of better understanding the unique condition and mindset he had. The original printings are currently kept by the Uve Mard Estate, while the rights to publishing further, collected copies of them have fallen into the hands of various parties; due to this, all of the writings have yet to be published together in a single volume.



Worpurr's career met a tragic and untimely, though not quite abrupt, giving the climactic nature of the undertaking that proved to be his undoing, end in late Age 829 when he hunted down and fought a rogue, rampaging Entrorth (the most recent demon of its kind to be encountered in the Prime Galaxy to date) on no other planet but his own original home of Virslagly. During the battle, the sadistic Wrath Archfiend, managing to exploit a rare moment of his being off–guard, pinned the Juggerknight to the ground and went directly for the "horns" that supported his higher mental functions as a Hexpultis, deliberately smashing open the structures protecting them and proceeding to rip two out of three out of his head before Worpurr managed to break free and ultimately kill the demon. However, the irreversible damage had already been done, and its effects soon set in. Becoming mentally–stunted from the loss of his brain–supporting outgrowths, Worpurr's mind, on whose strategic brilliance and quick thinking he had relied on just as much as his powerfully overdeveloped body, became that of a completely average, if not sub–average, Hexpultis, and he retired then and there, knowing that he was no longer fit to be any sort of "superhero" and having lost the will to even try to continue being one. He would spend the next and last five years of his life living, in material semi–luxury but miserably nonetheless, in Karjec, where, despite him now being more of a "normal" person like he had yearned to be throughout much of his early life, he found himself unable to move on past the life of greatness that he had since attained and subsequently lost.

On the morning of the first day of the Ninth Cycle of Age 834, the broken former Juggerknight donned his armor one last time as he threw himself off of the highest cliff within a ten mile radius of Karjec's walls and into the jagged rock–laden waters below. His suicide was verifiably observed by at least two witnesses, but his body was never recovered, not that this casts any doubt over his death; he most likely drifted out into deeper waters and ultimately sank to the bottom of the sea along with his ever–mysterious armor. Many have postulated that Worpurr cast into the deadly water along with himself specifically so that it would never be found, a notion which, if true, reinforces the idea that he may have had something to hide regarding the suit.

In addition to being remembered for his audacious feats – both as they actually occurred and in the forms of tall–tale–variations, Worpurr the Juggerknight's legacy has, especially since the shocking incident that was his suicide, contributed notably to increased tolerance of mutants in many societies, especially those of the Hexpultis.
 
I still got a few more to post:

https://plus.google.com/116104265714141559445/posts He had yet another Google+ account:
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In case you're wondering about his godawful background featuring his Pooh's Adventures Epic Rap Battles characters, here's the full image he posted on Flickr: (WARNING: It's over 10 MB)
http://i.imgur.com/OCJgoG9.jpg

And oh boy, it appears that he is continuing his Navaverse project.

1. Nava-Verse Hero Biography: Joinkhaah "Maniac" Manneil
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2. Nava-Verse Hero Biography: Denfumia
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3. Nava-Verse Hero Biography: Worpurr the JuggerKnight
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Dear god, those rap battles are like autism personified.
I'm Moleman 9000
I'm over 9,000,
Navaverse Creator,
Cyberbully hater,
da trolls hate me cause I'm autistic,
And all my relations are platonic,
but they can't take down my content,
Cause I'm better and faster than Sonic.

im da marine train teen,
blokin haturz on mah steam,
cause i'm down wid da clown
and i'll put you undurground,
cauz u cant hound,
cauz i put u in da pound,
bashing nugz an fagz with my baseball bat,
cruzin da hud in my sik skull hat,
gonna waste u if ur sped an fat,
cause in da race wur van,
i alwayz got a plan,
cauz i am da man,
baseball bat #summerslam.

Uhhhh, you play kick da autist...
CYBERBOWLING!!!!!

wow u r gay beanur,
why don't u suk my peener
 
Oh god, this guy. I don't know ALL about him but I remember when he used to be relevant. There was one time I saw him on Deviantart telling someone to take down stolen art, but the other person was calling him a "sick pessimist" or something like that. To be fair he did have a point there, but when I did more research into the guy he really was quite a "paranoid bigot", as someone else had called him. This was about a year or two ago, but that was my "experience" (back then I didn't have a Deviantart account though).
 
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