L a n c e  C a l l a g h a n

Gender - Male

Age - 46 (actual age is 74)

Specie - Human (mutant)

Affiliation - ( past) US Navy (1981- 1991) , Delta Six ( 1991- 2010)

- ( Present) Now he serves no one but himself.




1942, New Brunswick, Canada - The Canadian is born to a average family household having both parents and three sisters, two older than him and one younger, rendering him the second of the middle children. At the age of seven, the family moves into the US, down in New Jersey. From there the Canadian falls into the fast lane, becoming one of the youngest motocross competitors at the age of 12. The age limit was 16, but Lance had shown promising results in his racing and was then allowed when he had the proper sponsors.

This was ultimately when Lance was just coming into his abilities.

It's at the age of 15 when he first truly discovers them. A race that went bad, when the teen was starting to fall behind. With the combination of stress in at least coming up in the leads lest he be dropped for good, his emotions ran rampant and the X gene suddenly ignites a fire through his DNA. The bike suddenly surpasses all the others in a surging velocity ending with him crashing horribly. At the time, Lance hadn't any control of his abilities and the bike had hit the wall, the impact nearly enough to kill him, but he escapes with only seven broken bones.

With this stunt, he backed out of dirt biking. There was an uproar to how such a thing could have happened and Lance couldn't take it anymore when he couldn't give people the answers they wanted when he didn't even understand it himself.

His family dies in a plane crash. While on a trip, the plane went down and the family didn't make it. Lance had hung back, in a sort of dark phase after discovering his abilities and that he was a mutant. His family never knew what he was.


He joins the Navy. For ten years he served before being approached by Delta Six. There isn't much to be said or known for the secretive operation and when anyone tapped into Lance's documents and history, they'd find his ten years serving the Navy, but from 1991 to 2010 he was basically off the grid. There's pretty much a big black spot in his history, that no one can fill in but him.
He's been questioned, but only gives vague explanations before always taking off when nobody had enough proof to hold onto him.


 During Delta Six, the biker had been a courier of sorts, notorious for his suits and helmet that he hardly ever took off. He was the mysterious biker that could never be caught. He's evaded police as well as enemies many times. During his time with the operation, he's learned how to get dirty with weapons, adding onto his already gained military experiences. His favorite is the Rocket Launcher. He's got one at home.

2010 is Lance' last year with Delta Six.

When a mission becomes too personal for Lance, the biker leaves and has to cover his trail lest the men of his team come hunting him down. He drops his visage and goes back to being typical old Lance Callaghan, living the average life in an apartment.

It's not until a year later, he takes up racing again, entering back into backway races, staying away from the major leagues to for-go possibly becoming famous and attracting too much attention, instead earning his place among the ranks as one of the top five.



X  G e n e  Factor - M u t a n t

- He's got the ability to accelerate any machinery he comes into contact with ( hence the code name 'The Accelerator' ) and along with this he can toy with electronics and has been able to short circuit them.. Or blow them up.

-He's reached the speed of light once, though it ended badly, nearly killing him, as it went beyond his limits.

- He can control the rate of his velocity, what came with practice over time. This means he can have any vehicle go 0- 100 in 10 secs or 0- 100 in only 1 sec.

- He can take others along for the ride, but usually it resulted in the other being sick because their body can't handle it as his does ( Be prepared! )

-His aging is slowed by his X gene, ironic to his fast ability. He states he's 46, but he's actually 74 as of now. He'll change his age in accordance to his appearance. He doesn't know how long he's able to live for.





O t h e r  F a c t s

- His apartment is built and ready for an invasion, having various traps throughout his home. (Watch yourself )

- He holds a Rocket Launcher near and dear - his favorite weapon. ( He definitely doesn't sleep with it )

- The suit he use to wear during his Delta Six days was actual armor, able to fend off bullets and even handle explosions, the fabric made and created by an inner scientist who use to work for S.H.I.E.L.D

- His helmet gives him a range of view, calibrated to his use only. Think of Iron Mans helmet in the way it processes information and that's basically what his helmet can do.

- He's an alcoholic.
Though his tolerance exceeds most and he hardly actually get's drunk, but he'll have a beer any time of the day, and a glass of whiskey for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert.

- He loves Metallica.

Old school heavy rock is his tune and yeah if he's had a few in him, he'll dance.


- He's a recovering drug addict. 20 years clean.








4281595003?profile=RESIZE_710x Standing 6'3, Lance was a mix of a slim and muscular build. Through years of constant activity, he's kept himself in good shape despite his bad habits.

He's got scars ranging all over his body, the most prominent, the one over his left eye, the hair missing on that part of his eyebrow.
Others to follow are two bullet scars, one on his right side, just under his ribs, the other in his left hand, on either side of his hand where the bullet had passed through.

  Dark brown eyes held an intense and observant gaze.

He's often seen in his regular biker apparel, dusty jeans, t shirts and leather jackets with biker boots. He hasn't worn his armored suit in years, but keeps it in case of ever needing it again. The man can operate any kind of bike and is seen using various models as well as cars. Where and how he gets his hands on them is unknown.

As far experiences go, the added military background and time with the Operation, he's quite adept in fighting close range or with any manner of weapon, but he's even trained in martial arts, and took up perfecting parkour, leaving him a deadly fighter even without the aid of his abilities.

He's all quick wits, an energetic sort of guy with an after-fact kind of attitude that often entails sarcasm along with it. His humor is usually with him at all times. 




He's also usually reserved. Sociable, but not easily obtainable as a friend. Not paranoid, but cautious. He prefers to seclude himself, more of the independent type, but will tolerate others. He's emotionally blocked. After late traumatic events, he's been more volatile than ever.

duhamel+shirtless+2.gif?profile=RESIZE_400xHe's a forever lover. He's had a few one night stands, but when he falls, he falls hard. He's not exactly romantic, but when that person has changed his world, he will do almost anything at embarrassing levels, taking blows to his own dignity and pride for them. And he can be fiercely protective. But he's not a jealous lover.

During his Delta Six days, he was usually known for being silent, but odd. His actions spoke more than his words did and he found that silence often kept him out of trouble anyhow. But when he got started, boy could he ramble. When people asked why the guy didn't say much, their boss always responded:



" He's a courier, not a negotiator."













" Lysienne Wächter


 Let's be honest here.

Love at first sight doesn't exist, it's usually lust at first sight, right? 

Something about this woman and her dangerous aura drew this poor bastard right in. The moment he stepped on her turf, it was like stepping onto a spiders web, but this bug went and fucked up that web. Two ruined souls they were, but the game of lust, those nights they fucked, somehow became something else entirely. It became dangerous more so when a child came into the picture..

Panic set in and the woman he'd just started seeing in a new light, left him stranded with nothing. For weeks he tried to return to his old life, but found the taste of that life not as sweet as before. When she came back to him... he knew then that he loves her..




" Ryan Grant " 

 The Son he doesn't have a damn clue about. 

About sixteen years back and even further back from that, Lance had certainly had his ways of getting around in one night stands. He didn't understand love, didn't care to feel it especially under his lifestyle, so with little to any worries about consequences, he just had his fun. 

Sooner or later something had to come of it. Lance is pretty good about using protection lest he get some fuck'n STD, but it seemed there was a flaw along the way and for it, Ryan Grant was created. Kid lives with his mother and asshole stepfather and when he finally found out about his real father, he took off in search, hoping for some kind of escape. Kid even has the same love for the fast lane like his father, but it's not yet known if he also inherited the mutant gene..



                  F A M I L Y-
                              Father: Frederick Callaghan ) Deceased)
                            Mother: Marus Callaghan ) Deceased)
                            Oldest Sister: Jane Callaghan ) Deceased)
                            Older Sister: Clarice Callaghan ) Deceased)
                            Younger Sister: Nina Callaghan ) Deceased)

                              Son: Ryan Grant ) Alive)



Relationship status: T A K E N [ Yeah, I fuck'n love this woman ]


Preferences: Asexual Bisexual

Marriage: Not married.

Significant other ( or interests) -Lysienne Wächter  "Complicated" is a good term..







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  • Suddenly, he was standing in a red room full of older model televions, stacked atop one another in a makeshift wall in the center of the room.  Their screens were blank, hissing with a static that seemed to seep into the grooves in his bones, into the spot behind his eyes.  He tried to squeeze them shut, but no matter how hard he tried, he just.. couldn't do it.

    Slowly, his eyes were drawn to a TV in the upper right corner.  The screen turned on, displaying a yellow room full of TVs all stacked in a wall in the center of the room, identical to the red room in every way-- other than the yellow walls, of course.  

    A single television among them seemed to work, displaying yet another room with green walls.. 


    Then, he was back in the real world.  Not that he ever actually left- from Lance's persepective, no time would have passed at all between his verbal lessons on society, and how to properly sit on a bike.  "So it's a mass communication network, then?" The words came, and somehow he understood them, though he wore a puzzled frown like he didn't as he stuck the helmet on his head, hopped off the bike, and turned himself around.

    "Orrr.. some kind of surveillance collective?" Angel-Killer glanced from the bike, to Lance, then back to the bike again.  Grimacing, he swung his leg over the back and sat down, immediately moving closer to the older man in order to wrap his arms around the mans waist.  

    Totally unaware of what Lance is watching, he grins and mutters. "Somehow, my way seems less weird than this."


    The man in the black suit from earlier had suspiciously disappeared, but Lance might find it hard to shake the feeling of being watched from the shadows; from tinted windows and a vantage point of 30 feet. 


  • Cute.  

    It wasn't the first time he'd heard the word, but all the same he stared at Lance, confused.  The last person he'd seen use the term had been a woman muttering to herself in one of those crowded rooms where people go to buy clothes.   Something about the man's tone told him he wasn't being serious, though, so Angel-Killer decided not to say anything at all on the matter and remained blissfully confused. 

    Youtube? He didn't recognize the term, but Media brought about a different reaction entirely.  He hummed with understanding as the definition of the word seemed to bleed into his mind.   

    "I don't understand.." He wasn't too shy to admit it.  Pride was not something he concerned himself with, hell, he hadn't even considered it. "Why is it a bad thing if this Media person sees me? Can't everyone here do something?"

    He blinked at the man dumbly, grabbing the helmet from him.  At first he looked at it like it was some kind of alien device; turning it this way and that, before finally looking inside it.  His expression was skeptical, perhaps even a little annoyed.  He had no idea what to do with it, so he held it out and away from his bare chest like it might come alive and eat him.

    His brow quirked at the older man.  Captured? The very word summoned an insurmountable feeling of hopeless rage within him, causing him to grit his teeth.  Without another word, he slipped onto the bike -- backwards, putting him and Lance back to back.

    "This feels weird," He declared happily, setting the helmet between his legs. 

  • The crowd didn't pay Lance any mind, lingering and chattering amongst themselves.  

    But he was right. 

    Not everyone was happy with Angel-Killer's "performance."  More than one person was holding a cellphone in the air to film them. 

    One man in dark shades was talking hurriedly into a device in his ear, sheltered in the shadow of a nearby tree. 

    A woman was trying desperately to console her child; but the little girl just cried and cried and cried...


    Angel-Killer's sweaty face twisted derisively. "Uh, no." He yanked his arm away from the man with yet another huff, then rubbed his wrist where the man had touched him. "I'm four." Four days.

    He continued to stare at the man, only now he looked confused. "The what, who? I don't know who that is.. They sound kind of creepy though." 

    "Go where?" Angel-Killer muttered, then glanced over his shoulder towards the crowd gathered behind him.  He grinned happily, waved, then turned and jogged after Lance. "Where we goin' old dude? Huh?"

  • Squeezing his eyes shut when sweat began to run into them, he brought his palms to his face in order to wipe it away.  Then, straightening, he resumed his stance and cupped his hands together in the empty air before his stomach. 

    Invisible energy began to swirl between his palms..

    Okkkkaay... new target.  How bout that bridge? 

    He shifts his body slightly to the left in order to face the bridge, then starts winding up like a baseball player about to launch a ball, only to stumble and yelp when Lance's hand closes on his wrist and starts to drag him away.  The energy immediately dissipates and he goes along easy enough.  

    Until he regains his composure, at which point he's immediately digging his heels into the earth and bringing them to a quick halt.  Let it be noted that Angel-Killer's no Superman, but he's definitely stronger than the average human-- it shows.

    "H-hey man, what the hell?" He doesn't bother trying to drag his arm away from the older man, more confused than anything else.  Yeah, he can hear the sirens alright.  But he definitely doesn't know they're a bad thing.  "Wheeeere are we going? Who are you?"

    And then finally. "I didn't do it."

  • KrrCRACK!


    There's a high pitch whine; the sound of wood cracking and splintering; a loud whooshing noise as something massive plummets to the earth. 


    The entire park shook from the impact, and continued to grumble with displeasure for many moments after. 

    It wouldn't be hard to find the source of the disturbance; just follow the people.  A group of at least fifty were standing in a circle, gaping and muttering and laughing to themselves.  Children were hoisted onto their parents shoulders for a better view, earning a chorus of delighted giggles.

    Each and every one of them had their eyes trained on a lone figure, down by a pond, next to an old bridge that connected one hill to the next.  A young man, by all accounts, with sweaty raven black hair and ink black eyes narrowed with determination.  He wore a pair of shorts, no more, no less, and sweat glistened down the contours of his back as he rolled his shoulders, drawing back his right arm and shifting his left foot forward in order to put all of his strength into his lower body.  He brought his right hand close to his stomach, and then the left, one over the other as if he were about to catch a bug. 

    And then he thrust his hands out towards the water; 



    The water exploded as an invisible force rushed over the surface of it, leading a massive wave to smash into the ground on the other side.  But the kinetic force carried right on like an invisible locomotive, trailing up the hill to crash into the base of a large old tree, which immediately split right down the middle, shards of wood flying everywhere.

    The crowd whooped and cheered, but the young man paid them no mind, huffing with exhaustion.  He braced his hands against his knees and stood there a moment, panting, perhaps trying to catch his breath.

  • 4282090430?profile=RESIZE_710x

  • <3


  • 3779775731?profile=RESIZE_710x

    To Lance

    Merry Christmas! I got you a WWII Indian Motorcycle!

    From Secret Santa

  • "That thing you did when we went out to the road." His mecha of a friend held up an index finger.

    "How do you feel about helping me test it for combat? On live Decepticons? Drawing them out is pretty easy since I'm basically a wanted fugitive. I don't know how you'll hang on if I'm not in my alt mode."

    Now that was a wild idea, but one that might contribute to making Lance's world a safer place.

  • "Get'n in and out of trouble with some cons that've been chasing me. How'd you know about the alien part?"

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