//Full Name// Amak Chena
//Class// - Interested in Sniper
//BirthDay-Age// Feb 9, 1986 - 26
//Height// 4’5”/ 138 cm
//Weight// 132LB/ 59.8 kg
//Eyes// Dark Chesnut
//Hair// 5’2”/ 158cm of glorious, just slightly wavy, midnight locks
//Gender-Sexuality// Man~ Strait baby.
-Hair Fu- The Agent’s hair acts as an extra appendage.
Thick scalp- Do to the nature and function of the agent’s hair; pulling, tugging, picking things up, maybe throwing something now and then. The scalp has taken on a thicker more stable quality, thus holding the hair firmly without it all ripping out, skin and face included.
Sensitive- As a moving, grasping, part of the agent, the hair can feel. This allows it to accurately register what it’s picking up and holding. This also means any harm done to the hair is more readily felt by the agent, on a level of being cut or having a bashed toe.
-Can grasp, pick up, carry, and hold almost anything it can wrap around.
-Extends the area the agent can reach to depending on how long it is.
-Can attack by either tangling/grappling an opponent, or turning into a whip.
-Can weave itself together, strengthening the form it takes. Woven forms are limited to a weak shield, helmet, and net.
-Forms into different shapes, and hold its form for as long as the agent wants. As such [link] [link] [link] [link]
-Hair cannot hold any more weight than the agent can.
-Hair’s strength is also no more than the agents. If the Agent cannot wrestle a bear, neither can the hair.
-Cutting the hair is something to be avoided, as it takes a long time to grow back, and it hurts.
-The hair must be at least shoulder length long to start acting as an extra appendage.
-The hair is still hair, and thusly affected, damaged, and destroyed by anything that would or could do such to hair.
Usually appearing as quiet and reserved, Amak, to most, is an unlikely candidate for being a colorful and humorous being, enjoying the loud and rambunctious in life. He plays the dummy many times, to slap people in the face later with their assumptions of him; finding their shocked faces and words of the highest amusement obtainable.
On the whole though, Amak is friendly and more than willing to lend a hand where needed or required. A team player all the way, he enjoys being with company rather than without.
There must be a warning for the men though, who approach Amak from behind: He will mercilessly troll any man who mistakes him as a woman because of his hair.
Growing up in the harsh cold of the artic north, were at its warmest was 10ºC (50ºF) and coldest -34ºC (-29ºF) degrees, with wild animals roaming right outside the huts door; there wasn’t much to do or places to go that didn’t requires the know-how of survival.
Traveling was also something that happened often, as Amak’s particular tribe still moved with the herds of elk, duck, fox, walrus, and bears.
Needless to say Amak spent the better part of his days leaning to track, snare, and hunt or setting up, taking down camp, among various other traditions. But that isn’t to say he and his people were completely out of the loop when it came to modern times.
Every spring into summer when they traveled south with the herds, and closer to permanent settlements and towns, the tribe would catch up on any relevant news and technologies they may have missed or been waiting on. One thing in particular they kept up to date without question was a satellite transmitter and a TV monitor they kept with them at all times; along with school books and work for the children, and the rare field trip to a big city. The satellite was manly so the children could learn. Once a week they’d set up the transmitter so a teacher down in Canada could broadcast a class to them, that went with the school material they had on hand. Other than that, while the TV was set up they’d try and get some news, and bet on how badly the weather man would botch his forecast or when he’d get fired.
Life was as simple and mundane as it got for Amak and his tribe for many years. Hunting and traveling, trading and adapting in a world that was shrinking and forgetting old ways.
Mundane, if you discount all the happenings with Amak’s hair. He’d always been picky about his hair, preferring it not to be cut or tied up much. It was a long standing battle between Amak and his father of the up keep of his hair, till his mother stepped in and gave them an ultimatum: Let the hair grow. When it’s made clear that Amak couldn’t tend to it himself well enough or he realized having it long was a hassle, they’d cut it. Needless to say they still argued about it even after agreeing to the terms, but at least there was no being chased with scissors. It was a year or so after this agreement was reached that the first event with Amak’s hair occurred.
It was spring, the time when the sun stayed at its rising position for a good month before moving further along the skies. It was still warm enough to stark melting some of the ice though, especially the further south the tribe traveled. Amak had passed the trials of becoming a man with a few other clan members during the winter months with the successful seal hunt. As such he gained new responsibilities, like keeping an eye on the young children and making sure they stayed out of trouble. The newly appointed ‘men’ drew straws for that one, this particular day Amak drew the short one. Going into his task disgruntle, it didn’t take long for a distraction to form and trouble to brew. Trouble in the form of two of the more mischievous children to fall through a fishing hole in the ice they had made incorrectly. Failing to fish them out Amak went into the water to pull them out. He got hold of them both, but then realized two things: If he let go of either of them they’d drown. If he didn’t they’d all drown, as he couldn’t kick and swim enough to get them out of the fishing hole. As they began to sink into the frigid waters, and Amak found himself seriously having to consider who to let go of, he wished he had a third arm, to reach up and grab hold of the ledge and keep them from drowning. So he could save them all. It wasn’t far to reach, just a little bit.
The next thing Amak knew there was a tugging on his hair, and then a yank before he and the children were gasping frigid air and being hustled in to warmth. Later, when Amak and the two children were well, he would learn of what had happened, he would learn that his hair… had come to life. Amak had felt a chang in him, but couldn’t grasp or believe it till he hear the account of how his hair shot out of the water and clung to ice top and the hands of those who came over to pull them out. ‘The god of the seas must have blest you!’ some elders proclaimed. Others were more inclined to believe it a strange and fortunate happening easily explained with logic of Amakes hair being so long it looked like it came alive as the wind caught it, and it clung to the ice because it froze too it. This logic grew harder to use though, as more and more incidents occurred with Amak’s hair. Either way the tribe took to calling his hair Aipalovik, an evil sea god of mischief.
It took some getting use too, living with hair that moved around and did things according to what you were thinking. Indeed Amak was more than a little terrified of it at first, to the point of even trying to cut some of it off. That didn’t go far though, considering how it hurt. His hair had always been sensitive, but now it was more so. With the help of his mother and father, Amak did manage to take charge of his hair, getting use to it over the years. He learned how to use it to aid him and the others till if felt like a fuzzy third arm. Every year it grew longer and longer, as did his capability to precisely use it.
Sadly HE did not grow as well as his hair. In fact, Amak is the shortest person of his tribe in many generations. Most say his hight went to his hair instead of him. It doesn’t make him overly happy to think about it.
Like many things though, Amak did not let this impede him, but instead took it as a challenge to prove himself capable of performing normal tasks like anyone else… and not just weaving his hair together to catch fish or provide a hammock for his ma’ma. As suck Amak became one of the best hunters in his tribe, and skilled without measure with a rifle.
It was only very recently that Amak found himself joining Agents, in a rather hummerus way. He’d fallowed a polar bear far from the tribes camp, something that had only happened once before and for the same reasons. It had attacked a human, and was dubbed a threat needing to be put down. Amak had lost it a couple of times in the snow and dark, getting lost himself along the way, but had at last corned it. The shots cracked across the empty whiteness, dropping the beast. Seeing it drop Amake came out of hiding and approached it, to make sure it was truly dead, but something else happened entirely. Seemingly out of nowhere several snowmobiles appeared, surrounding Amak and the dead bear, the drivers, all in white with funny glasses, ordered his surrender. Out of surprise, and a wish to stay alive, not know who these people where, Amak put his hands up in the air… along with his hair. Needless to say there was some head tilting before they escorted Amak back to their outpost. It seemed he’s stumbled upon the perimeter by accident, but as this was explained to him, and he explained in turn what he had been doing, a silent lady came and offered him a job in their organization… The A-Gents.
-Had a pet duck once
-Loves his mother. Respects his father
-Anything roasted and edible he will try
-Hot coco is his favorite beverage
-Despises people with bratty or winey attitudes
-Is a fantastic shadow puppeteer
-Likes the Troll-lol-lol song more than one should
Blood Type: O+
Allergies: Non known of