Name: Cain

Race: Android

Starting Planet: Earth

Fighting Style: Though programmed with traditional Tae Kwon Do knowledge, he never achieved much in the ways of technique. His programmer may've had little knowledge of the art, or little time to fine tune it in the machine. Jake's mostly an instinctual fighter, and without programming of proper conduct etiquette he's geared toward disabling the opponent through any mean's possible.

Appearance:
Due to either lack of social programming or medication Christian has trouble expressing emotions. His face is usually blank, though forced smiles and haunted, sad eyes sometimes dawn it.

He was created in the image of Da Vinci's Vetruvian man. A cursive V is stamped upon his chest beneath a plain white t-shirt. He often wear's woolen overcoats the likes of which would be found in second hand shops en-mass, usually of the color black. Loose fit blue jeans ride belted at hip height. It's all worn as a simplistic interpretation in admiration of artists.

Personality: Cain is a standard individual, easily mistaken for a sad human. Optimistic attributes sometimes show but are often shadowed by severe depression. He doesn't understand the reasoning behind being a flawed creation, and seeks answers for questions that are never of the norm.

He admires humans as creators and also as beings, but doubts their morals. Schizophrenia limits his contact with society, leaving him a studious husk of an individual. Often listening, speaking on rare occasions. Outside of the Good Doctor he finds a friend in himself, unwilling to trust any individual thus far.

Biography: Cain is an Earthling by origin as far as knowledge allows. Not much is known of him or by him. He believes in action over speech, as taught by the Good Doctor. This omniscient figure in his life acts as an entity of guidance and provider. The medication required to sustain sanity appears in a syringe beneath a screen upon which words appear.

Upon activation he these events followed.

"Greeting's." The words were audible within a dimly lit room reminiscent of a padded cell. On a screen six feet across and four high the characters of a word appeared in succession, green. The color of a summer climate's grass. Beneath the screen was a square indention six inches deep, and six across. A plastic window with a handle sat in place over the opening.

"Who I am is not important. Who you are however, is. You are Cain. Say it with me."

"Cain," Pausing, the android's brow furrowed. He glanced at his nude frame and frowned. "Why am I naked?"

"Your mind is already beginning to process situation and decency."

"Yes."

"How do you desire to appear?"

He thought for a moment, brows crinkling again. "As the poor artisan." And then he smiled.

An electric crackle sounded and the opening below the screen blazed brilliant aquamarine-white. It coalesced to form matter in the center, a similar colored capsule taking shape in the center. The light ceased and it fell with a tinkle to the bottom of the window.

"Your clothes are inside. "

As Cain opened the window an overwhelming sadness took him. "What is this feeling? Why do I desire to be deactivated?"

There was a silence and then more words appeared, resounding in the bleak chamber. "Your body will be eternally healthy. Conversely your mind will never be completely well. It is psychosis. You will be this way forever. There is no cure. The programming is irreversible. If you will not cease to be, but merely exist in another plane."

Cain depressed the button atop the pinky sized blue cylinder and tossed it a foot away. There was a resounding poof and a wardrobe appeared. He dressed in what would be become ritual silence, pulling a white shirt over his head and jeans over his legs. He belt the pants in place, and put on the black overcoat, buttoning it across the midsection.

The figure grimaced in final realization. "If I must live what shall I do?

"That is ultimately your decision. But I may aid in the development."